


Brothers

by ExecutiveShrimp



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Dark, Gang Rape, M/M, Minor Character(s), Pedophilia, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 01:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 130,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5356574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExecutiveShrimp/pseuds/ExecutiveShrimp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, 2x1: After the death of his mother, Duo is forced to live with his estranged father. The new family seems perfect at first, but the truth is entirely different and will be revealed as Duo starts to get feelings for his "brother". DARK! Read warnings inside</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OVERALL WARNING:
> 
> This story includes sexual content, some of which is of a non-consensual nature (including but not limited to: sexual abuse of a minor, coercion, exploitation and gang-rape). Please heed this warning carefully and if you decide to read this story, pay attention to the warnings at the start of each chapter.
> 
> The content in question is not portrayed in a pornographic way but at times the writing is crass, harsh and explicit in order to convey the horror of the situation. I don't mean to offend anyone with the content of my work, I hope I have succeeded in treating the subject as respectfully as possible. I have added bypasses in the darkest chapters so you can skip the specific scenes (please read the AN's and warnings), but if you do read the full story I hope you will agree that it was a necessary aspect to the story and that you will understand why I have included it. The subject matter is very serious and sensitive and I trust you know I do not treat this lightly.
> 
> \- E.S.

 

**Brothers**

**Chapter One**

The smell that hung in the confinement of the taxi cab was sour and heavy, as was the atmosphere. I kept my gaze firmly directed to the outside world, in which I lost more and more interest as we traveled further into the heart of the suburban neighborhood. My heart had a slow and numb thud to it, it was as if my heart didn't want to beat at all, as the person to whom it belonged was gone. But something made it. Something forced it to go on and consequently, I too was forced to continue in this life that steadily dribbled empty of all it's joys. My whole body felt weak, but weighted, my hands, resting in my lap, were heavy, so heavy I couldn't imagine ever being able to move them again.

The car drove further, further into the territory that was so unfamiliar to me. I dreaded the destination. I wish I could just become so heavy that my body would sink through the bottom of the car and be left behind on the road. But as the car neared, so did I and there was no stopping that process.

My sentence was 365 days. 365 days of punishment to suffer, till I'll finally be free. Today is my seventeenth birthday, but there was nothing I wanted more than to turn eighteen and that is a present I had to wait for. For 365 days. So that is what I will do, I will wait. I will abide my time. Somehow I will make it work, somehow I will make myself last and they - whoever they are - will never see me again, I will gone. Gone away to all the places that are so much more interesting than a suburban street, in upstate New York.

"It will be okay, Duo." A tender voice to my right spoke. "This really is the best thing for you."

I couldn't stand looking at her, at her friendly face, her kind and sympathetic eyes, it was all bittersweet and tainted with the reality of what she made me do. For the past few days she had been claiming to be my friend, urging me to trust her, talking to me in delicate, soothing tones. She had no idea what was best for me and therefore the promises she made me turned out quite different from what I had expected, or dared to hope.

My dull eyes were focused on the houses that we passed. A white one, with blue shutters. A mustard yellow one with a big tree in the front yard, the lower branch supported a swing. A maroon one with a wide porch wrapping all around the house. Another white one, blue shutters too. An ocean blue one, with a trail of rosebushes leading up to the front porch.

That's where the cab stopped, gently rolling to a halt at the curb. Captain Obvious behind the wheel announced: "Here we are."

The ocean blue paneling of the house contrasted with the red front door. The support beams of the front porch where white, as was the swing chair. To the left of the spacious house was a generous garage with a sizeable loft above it, disconnected from the house, the frame of the large window facing the street was red also. Parked on the long driveway in front of the garage were two vehicles, a silver, luxurious sedan of an expensive European brand and a dark blue, American made SUV, looking equally pricy. The lawn was a vibrant green and every blade of grass looked to be the exact same length. The rose bushes flanking the cobble stone path leading up to the steps of the porch, were abloom with a soft shade of pink. My heart remained unimpressed by the colorful display.

"It's a beautiful house, don't you think so, Duo?"

I kept looking at it, to see what she saw, but my eyes detected no beauty, they were blind to whatever allure the house might hold. I felt a shiver run down my spine, looking at it. The cab might as well have dropped me off at the state penitentiary, it would have made no difference. I was an inmate regardless, for 365 days.

The cab driver uneasily wondered: "Aren't you going to get out?"

"We are," She answered, "just give us a moment." She touched my shoulder in a gesture that meant to be comforting, but it had no positive effect on me. If I wasn't already pressed up against the door, as far away from her as I could be, I would have leaned away further. "Are you alright?" She asked with a hint of concern when I remained silent for long, stretching moments.

I didn't answer, she damn well knew what I had to say in response to that. I didn't answer stupid questions.

She turned to the driver, her hand still on my shoulder as she leaned into me. "Could you please get his bag out of the trunk?"

At that request I violently and abruptly shook myself loose of her grip, undid my seatbelt and ripped the car door open, exiting in a manner that most resembled a controlled stumble. "He's not touching my damn stuff!" I exclaimed angrily. "No one is touching my stuff. It's mine!" And I childishly stomped my foot on the pavement. No wonder the judge didn't allow me early emancipation.

She climbed out after me, through the door I had left wide open. "Duo, that is fine, it is your stuff, don't worry." She tried to calm me.

From his seat behind the wheel the driver popped the trunk open. I didn't want to get my bag out. I wanted to slam the trunk shut and tell him to take me back to the airport, but that wasn't going to happen. I stared at the open trunk, my back purposefully turned towards the house. I looked past the cab to the houses across the street, all clones of each other, masquerading as unique with varying coats of colored paint. This would be my view for the next 365 days. Bland and oppressing.

The turmoil in front of the ocean blue house with the red door had drawn some attention from the surrounding neighbors. A woman with a gardening apron and sunhat, holding sheers in her matching gloved hands, had stopped trimming her plants, and there was a man at the window of the house right across the sheet, who had pulled the sheer curtain aside. They looked at me in dismay, with my appearance they instantly had me figured out. Black jeans with chains, white shirt underneath a black shirt with faded tour dates of a rock band? Trouble maker.

"Duo, why won't you take your bag out." She suggested. "If you don't, I will." It was a threat but she said it in her regular, kind tone of voice, nearly deceiving me. "Duo, you know I have to leave soon, I have a flight to catch."

"Take me with you." I blurted, my eyes finally settling on her, with a pleading, pathetic look.

She smiled sadly. "You know I can't. You belong here, with your family."

"These people aren't my family." I argued. "At best one of them is a long lost blood relative, the others are strangers. They all are strangers to me!"

"Give them a chance. They are the closest thing to family you have."

It was a painful truth that made my heart ache. My real family was gone and my heart bled. Behind me I heard the red front door open, causing me to tense up. I looked at her face as she looked past me, smiling and offering a small wave to the person who had come to the door, awaiting me.

"Duo, come on, get your bag. I have to go." She walked up to the house, her heels clicking on the cobble stone path. I heard her greeting to the stranger, but the rest of their brief conversation were incoherent mumbles as they whispered to avoid me eavesdropping on them.

With a surrendering sigh I walked to the back of the car and lifted my duffel bag with my clothes and few personal belongings out of the trunk, the strap pulling taut over my shoulder. I slammed the trunk shut with an exaggerated loud snap, the woman with her sheers jumped at the sudden noise and when I glared at her she turned her back to me and continued her gardening as if she hadn't been shamelessly staring.

I turned towards the house and saw that rather than one, two people had come to the front door, talking quietly to the person who was abandoning me here. I waited by the car, stalling. She said her goodbye to the couple and then walked back over to me. She patted my shoulder reassuringly and spoke: "Don't worry Duo, you're a good kid, you'll fit in in no time."

I did not believe her but didn't say so.

With a final pat she stepped past me and crawled back into the cab. I waited and heard the vehicle slowly take off. Dread overwhelmed me, but I fought it, I had to be strong if I were to last for 365 days. My eyes settled on the couple, standing close to each other on the front porch. The woman was very slim, her hair a shade so blond it had to be fake. She had it up in a tight, conservative bun, out of her tanned face. She wore a muddy brown skirt that left her lower legs exposed to show off and had paired it with a fitting cream wool vest, with a brown belt that accented her waist and matched the skirt and her high heeled shoes. It seemed she had put a lot of thought in it. She had a smile on her face but I presumed her to always be smiling, simply because it was polite. The man she stood next to was imposingly tall, with broad set shoulders. Wispy dark blond hair framed his angular face in a youthful manner. He was wearing a black business suit that made him look strict and very official. He was smiling too but I could tell he was experiencing the same dread as I was.

Even though my bag wasn't heavy at all, it felt like I was lugging it down the cobble stone path, walking towards them. I stopped at the steps of the porch, looking up at them. As a couple, their combined perfection was impressive, they wouldn't be out of place in a commercial. As I took in my first impressions of them, I wondered what their first impression of me was, it couldn't be good. I was painfully out of place and I looked the part too.

The woman, attractive by nature but something that she had almost ruined with her white blond hair, botox lips and brow and too white teeth, was the first of the three of us to speak. "Hello, Duo." her voice was smooth. "My name is Tabytha and this is Cameron," She chuckled nervously, an annoying sound that I feared was habitual, "it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

I wasn't sure what she meant with that sentiment, I highly doubted she knew of my existence before the social worker had called three days ago to announce she will be escorting me to their home. "It's nice to meet you too." I decided to return the niceties, as being opposing would only make the next 365 days harder to get through. I looked up at the man, who bore no physical resemblance to me whatsoever with the single exception of the shade and shape of his eyes, which eliminated any doubt. Some would say he was my "real father", but they would be wrong. I had no real father. He was only my biological father.

"Duo." He said with a breathy sigh.

I wondered what he was going to say next, with the both of us caught in this awkward, contrived and utterly unwelcome reunion. Surely there was a lot for him to say, a lot for him to apologize for.

"Can I take your bag?" He disappointed me by saying.

"No, it's fine. It's not heavy." I wrapped my hand around the strap, I wasn't going to let him take it. In a strange house, with strange people, where nothing belonged to me, I was protective of what little that was all mine and no one else's.

"Why won't we go inside?" Tabytha suggested. "We can show you to your room."

"My room?"

"One of the guestrooms." Cameron explained. "But you can change it in any way you want. It is your room now."

The guestroom. Make no mistake, I thought warningly, I will never be more than a guest in this house.

The couple stepped back into the house, expected me to follow, but for me it wasn't a simple matter of moving my feet. My entire body responded to the resistance in my mind, freezing up on the first step of the porch. I felt their awaiting gazes on me but I had to block them out if I was ever to get myself to move. Finally, I got some momentum going and I managed to follow them inside, pausing only briefly before crossing the threshold.

Cameron softly closed the red door behind me. It sounded like a jail door slamming shut. I looked around my prison. The hallway at the center of the house was two stories high and a modern, crystal chandelier hung down from the ceiling, the sunlight that poured in through the windows flanking the red door were reflected by the crystal in intricate ways, creating a play of light on the sand colored walls. The staircase made it's winding way upstairs in a gentle curve, each ebony step carefully polished. The white stone floor was so clean and shiny that I could catch my own black reflection in it. Through delicately molded archways on either side, was the large, modern kitchen to the left, with black cupboards and white marble counters and an equally large sitting room done in soft hues to the right.

Tabytha was talking. "Here is the kitchen and through there is the formal dining room. Straight ahead is Cameron's study. Over there is the living room and beyond that we have a TV room and a sunroom looking out over the garden." Her pride of her living arrangements was evident.

"I'm sure Duo has no interest in sunrooms." Cameron interjected. "He must be tired from his journey. Why won't I show you your room?"

Realizing he was asking me, I nodded. It was all so overwhelming, I could use a space to offer me some seclusion for the time being. At his gesture I followed him upstairs. He announced what was behind each door as we passed it, the first of which, to the right, being the master bedroom where he and Tabytha slept, next was a small upstairs study overlooking the garden that Tabytha often used as her own private little office, but he assured me I was welcome to use it whenever I wanted. There were two smaller guestrooms that we passed and he showed to the last door at the end of the hallway, opening it and allowing me to go in first.

This last guestroom was very substantial, large enough to easily accommodate a double bed, a large closet and a desk underneath the window that overlooked the street, my view for the next 365 days. In the wall opposite of the bed was a wooden door and Cameron informed me that this room had it's own adjoining bathroom, with full size tub, separate shower, sink and toilet. It was a more luxurious place than anywhere I ever remembered living and sleeping.

The carpet was cream, as were the satin sheets on the bed that was richly decorated with various throw pillows. All the furniture was a dark ebony. The walls were a dusty shade of blue. Everything about the room was anonymous and neutral. Cameron kept telling me I could change it however I desired, he would buy me new furniture, new paint and even new carpet if that's what I wanted. I didn't really know why he was being so generous and accommodating, I had a feeling that it had to do with over eight years of guilt, eight missed birthdays.

"Why won't you rest for a little while." He suggested and he grabbed the doorknob to pull the door shut. Before he left, he said: "And I haven't forgotten, there is a present for you on the desk." With an awkward nod he excused himself and quietly pulled the door closed behind him.

I placed my duffel bag on the soft mattress of the double bed and walked around it to the desk. As promised, sitting on top of it, was a festively wrapped present, the size of a large shoebox, like the ones they put boots in. but he didn't know the first thing about me, let alone my shoe size. Disinterested I let the present be for a moment and explored my cell. It was mostly empty and impersonal. One of the walls was decorated with artistic black and white photographs of nature and sculptures and architecture, that did nothing for me. I opened the door to the private bathroom and at the very least I was pleased with this luxury, it meant that I could mostly keep to myself. Toilet paper, soap and shampoo were already provided. In the shallow cabinet behind the mirror above the sink was even toothpaste and a new toothbrush, still in it's packaging. Did they think I wouldn't have a toothbrush of my own?

I walked back into the bedroom and after eight birthdays of not even a phone call or a postcard, I grew curious regarding the present. I walked over to the desk and fingered the colorful bow that decorated the top. I started plucking at the paper and it took me a moment to become more confident. I started ripping the paper loose. On the box that was revealed was the printed image of a brand new laptop, with it's impressive specs listed beside the picture. It was a very generous gift, it had surely cost him a lot of money, and obviously, after having lacked that kind of money all my life, I didn't have a laptop as of yet. Still, the present left me feeling a little empty. Perhaps I was expecting something more personal, but that had just been silly of me. I left the laptop for what it was, neatly packaged in it's box, and dropped my heavy body down on the bed.

I wasn't sure how long I had been staring up at the ceiling, but my stomach suddenly started growling demandingly. The last thing I had eaten was a pack of mini pretzels on the airplane and that hadn't been very satisfying. I didn't really want to go back downstairs, but I knew I couldn't hide out in my room forever, not for 365 days at least, so I ventured outside. Walking downstairs I heard Tabytha and Cameron talking in the kitchen. I quieted my footfalls and crept closer in hopes of catching part of their conversation, but before I could get close enough to hear anything other than indistinct murmuring, I must have inadvertently made a sound that gave away my presence, because they suddenly fell silent. I casually made my way further down the stairs.

"Did you get some rest?" Tabytha asked after an uncomfortably long silence during which I had reached them, sitting at the kitchen counter.

I shrugged.

"Are you hungry, I could make you something?" She offered, already getting out of her seat.

"Thank you."

"What are you in the mood for?" She asked, pulling open the steel door of the large refrigerator.

"It doesn't matter." I eyed Cameron warily. I had very few memories of him, even though I last saw him when I was eight. He had often been away for business, so most of my memories regarding him were of my mother trying to explain to me why daddy wasn't home.

Tabytha went to work on her own accord, preparing for me what appeared to be an elaborate sandwich with turkey, lettuce, dressing and tomato slices. Cameron sat wordlessly, reading the newspaper with a pair of thin framed glasses perched on the tip of his nose, adding a decade to his estimated age. Realizing I should probably thank them for the expensive birthday present, I did.

"Oh, you are welcome." Tabytha beamed. "It is your birthday after all."

"I hope you like it." Cameron added, looking up from the financial section of the newspaper. "I know surprisingly little of computers, our son had to pick it out."

I blinked. Surprised was a ridiculous understatement. "Son?"

"Yes, Heero." Cameron said proudly. "You'll meet him soon, he should be home any minute now."

My mind reeled. He had another son? Technically, did that mean that I have a brother? One day to be reacquainted with an estranged father and a long lost brother? I was too shocked by this news to even be mad at anyone for keeping this a secret from me, or to wonder why a man who had abandoned one child would go off and have another.

"Speaking of the devil..." Cameron mused, when sounds coming from the garage, connected to the kitchen, interrupted the silence between us.

The door in the kitchen that apparently led to the garage was pushed open from the other side. Through came a young man, a boy, my age or perhaps slightly younger. His perplexed expression at seeing me mirrored my own. He had a slight but lithe built, with long legs. He was dressed in unflattering beige pants and a white button-up shirt tucked into them. His neck was long and supported his head in a slight, curious tilt. Framed by his messy, tousled chocolate brown hair was an exotic face with golden, perfect skin offset by a pair of the most exquisite, most blue jewels of eyes that seemed out of place in a face of otherwise unquestionable Asian heritage. He was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, so beautiful I was momentarily dumbstruck, forgetting about the crazy day, forgetting that I was technically looking at my own brother. Even the intense frown and the angrily glaring way his eyes settled on me could not disrupt my appreciation.

Dumbly, I blurted: "This is your son?" The boy couldn't be more lacking in physical resemblance to his parents, obviously he was not their biological son, both Cameron and Tabytha didn't have a smidgen of anything exotic in them, being as utterly Western as they come and also neither of them had been blessed with a pair of eyes alike their son's.

Cameron chuckled. "Yes. Well, obviously not our biological son. We adopted him when he was eight years old. We got him all the way from Japan." The words he used made it seem more like he was talking about the acquisition of a designer bag, rather than the adoption of a son.

The boy that had come all the way from Japan sure didn't look pleased that I had come all the way from Nevada to join them.

"Hey, I'm Duo." I didn't offer him a hand to shake because it looked like he wouldn't accept it anyway, more like bite it off.

"Heero, be polite." Tabytha warned absentmindedly, still working in the kitchen as she had begun to prepare a second sandwich.

"I'm Heero." The boy coldly said. The lack of social decency to feign politeness was startling but at the same time refreshingly honest.

"Sandwiches are ready!" Tabytha announced, somewhat diffusing the tense atmosphere. "Why won't you boys eat them together in the dining room? Get to know each other a little." She handed us both a plate.

"Can I eat this in my room?" Heero immediately asked, ignoring Tabytha's suggestion.

"Heero-" Tabytha started impatiently, but Cameron interrupted his wife, saying:

"That's fine, you can have it in your room."

Heero didn't stick around for Tabytha to get the opportunity to change Cameron's mind. He left the same way he had entered, through the door leading to the garage.

"I'm sorry about Heero." Cameron said once the door fell shut. "It just takes some time, that's all."

"I understand." I did, I was feeling the same reluctance to mingle as Heero did. I had no interest in becoming part of this family, seeing as I intended to stay no longer than the required 365 days, though I had to admit that the possibility of sitting across from Heero for 365 dinners would not be punishment, as unlikable as he acted towards me, he was not hard on the eyes.

"You can eat in your room too, if you want, or in front of the TV." Cameron said, maybe noticing how awkwardly I stood there in the middle of the kitchen, holding the plate in my hand. "You can do whatever you want, this is your house too now."

That wasn't true, this wasn't my house. This was their house and I wasn't even as much their guest as I was their prisoner. Their unwanted prisoner. If they wanted me here they would have sought me out a long time ago and invited me over, to reconnect or whatever. Now they had been forced to extend their hospitality to me, as the judge ordered it so, awarding Cameron full custody, after I had never seen him since shortly after my eighth birthday. They must hate that judge for his uninformed decision as much as I did, but all of us were just going to have to deal with it. Running away had already proven not to help.

I took my sandwich upstairs with me, feeling no desire to stay in their presence. I ate it quickly, it was good, the rich man's sandwich. Once I was done and had nothing to occupy myself with, I was even too restless to try and get some sleep, I tried to start unpacking, zipping my duffel bag open. There were two neat stacks of dark shaded clothing and the rest of the space was filled with personal affects. I took out two plain, black T-shirts and walked them over to the closet. When I opened the door I discovered a television hidden inside, in prefect view of the bed. Ignoring it, I placed the T-shirts on one of the shelves, but as soon as I did, I felt a sick feeling. I didn't belong here, I didn't want to unpack. I hadn't unpacked in over eight years. I always thought that when I finally did unpack, it would be someplace very special, the first place I had ever come across where I actually wanted to stay. This was not that place. This was just a longer stop, an intermission of my traveling that would resume as soon as my sentence is over. So I took the T-shirt back to by bag and put the whole thing in the bottom on the closet, deciding to continue living out of my duffel bag as I had for most of my life. It was a way of life that had become me and it wasn't something I could give up for this ocean blue house with red front door in the middle of suburbia.

There was only one thing I couldn't leave buried in my bag in the back of the closet. I reached two hands inside the depths of the bag and pulled out a thick, brown leather photo album, the cover, both front and back, heavily worn. I touched it reverently. I needed someplace safe and private to store it. This was mine and no one else's. I momentarily placed it on the desk and started opening the box of my new laptop, apparently hand picked by Heero. I didn't know much of computers, having never owned one, but it looked impressive and the long list of qualities went on and on. I lifted it out of the box along with the instruction manual and it's charger. The Styrofoam, that had held the laptop in place in the box that was far bigger than the machine was itself, I broke into little pieces and discarded in the trashcan underneath the desk. I carefully placed the photo album in the empty box, a near perfect fit and with a little coaxing I could still get the lid to properly close, hiding the thick book. I put the box in the bottom drawer of the desk and placed the manual on top, making it seem like I had simply kept the laptop's packaging.

I lay back down on the bed and looked around the room. My knowledge of these walls, corners and thread of the carpet would become intimate over the course of the next 365 days. I dreaded that never-changing view. I noticed the door had a lock but the key was missing and made a mental note to ask Cameron for it later, taking advantage of the fact that, for the time being, he was very cooperative. If they could lock me into this house, at the very least I should be able to lock them out of my room.

And so began my 365 day sentence; staring up at the ceiling, too stubborn to cry, even though I wanted to.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Brothers**

**Chapter Two**

I guess when I went to bed, I had expected things to change come morning. But only few problems are as easily solved as sleeping on it. This wasn't one of them. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into a room that was mine, yet at the same time wasn't. What I felt was disappointment and sadness and those incessant tears that kept stinging in the corner of my eye. When would they catch on that I will not cry? Crying is such a useless and hopeless thing to do. It's embarrassing to yourself and to others. I hate crying and I hate that she is making me want to. I have forgiven her but only on because I figured it was somehow not right, to hold a grudge against someone who is not here anymore to make things right. No, can't hold grudges against the dead.

I glanced quickly at my watch on the nightstand.

8 AM.

I groaned, rolled over and closed my eyes again. I refused to open them, I forced myself back into a dreamless sleep. When I woke I looked back over my shoulder.

9:30 AM

I wondered if I could just sleep the days away, spend them in blissful unconsciousness where there are no sad feelings, no feelings of guilt, no feelings of being lost and no responsibilities and duties. I certainly made a good effort. I wasn't really used to it, the whole sleeping-in thing. My mom was a fervent believer of making the best of the day and normally, that didn't really bother me. Because the following day was really worth getting the best out of. Especially now that she is gone, I appreciate her dutifully setting our alarm at seven AM, because every moment asleep, was a moment not spent with her and one less great memory.

At noon, I had to throw in the towel and accept my defeat. I hurried over to my private bathroom to relieve myself and then took my time taking a shower, brushing my teeth and getting dressed in the darkest set of clothing that I owned to reflect my state of mind. I leaned into the mirror and put in all my earrings, a whole string of them in the right ear and a set of two in the left. The social worker had made me take them out, she thought it looked too rebellious and intimidating. Interestingly, that is exactly why I liked them and why my mom let me get them. And it was exactly the kind of weapon that I needed to defend myself against the evil forces of Dullness and Conformity in suburbia.

With my stomach growling, I made my way downstairs.

I had expected them all to be gone, to work and school and whatever, but I hadn't really dared to hope. I was relieved to find a note on the kitchen counter.

_Duo,_

_Cameron is at work and Heero is at school. I have a meeting with the Charity Committee. We didn't want to wake you. I'm sorry you'll be alone for most of your first day here. Help yourself to breakfast and make yourself at home. We will all have a delicious dinner tonight to celebrate._

_Tabytha._

Celebrate? Celebrate what? That there were only 364 days left, surely.

I noticed the lack of greeting and goodbye, just our names. She obviously didn't know how to handle herself in this note. I raided the fridge and cabinets for anything that I could stand and while munching on a sour apple after yoghurt and a handful of sugar coated cereal, I realized with a pique of interest that I had the house completely to myself. It might be an invasion of their privacy, but they had brought it upon themselves. Basically, by all leaving, they gave me permission to snoop. Right? I sure as hell didn't need more convincing.

I started innocently enough, giving the refrigerator and the freezer another tour, noticing how everything was neatly packaged and labeled and stacked. The contents of the kitchen cabinets showed a similar pattern. There was a calendar on the wall, but I couldn't make much sense of it, it was completely packed, with writings in different colors, but for everything they used abbreviations to make it fit and I had no idea what any of it meant. Against the back wall there was a large glass cabinet with liquor. I checked the doors and confirmed my suspicion that they were locked. The lock was not part of the cabinet, just crudely fitted on the doors. Probably a recent adjustment in light of my arrival.

Thanks for the trust, dad. I thought bitterly and then shrugged as I continued to rummage through their things, they were right not to trust me. And I didn't trust them either so it didn't matter. I was many things, but I was not a hypocrite.

The kitchen was boring, so I moved on. The dining room I could skip after a single glance. There was just a large table with eight seats and a cabinet with crystal wineglasses. I crossed the "foyer" into the front living room. All the furniture was directed at the big, statuesque, cream marble fire place. An uninteresting painting of a flowing, grassy landscape dotted with trees to a backdrop of an orange sunset hung on the wall above it. The floor was dark, but everything else was light. Sand colored walls, big, pastel blue couches and white furniture. There was a comfortable, cognac leather lounge chair by a tall and broad bookcase. Curiously I titled my head and read the titles on the spines. Nothing that caught my interest. There were only few literary works, most books were both old and next textbooks on business, law, home decoration and organization.

Boring.

I opened every drawer that I could find but found nothing more incriminating than a TV guide with a hot, famous actor on the cover. I flipped it open to read his article, but then frowned when I noticed the family had highlighted programs with three different colored markers. The pink one was obviously Tabytha's. She had highlighted entertainment and lifestyle programs. The blue and the green marked programs were a bit more tricky at first, but I discovered an easily discernable pattern. Green was mostly sports, the news and some financial programs. Very little was marked blue, the programs that were evolved around technology and engineering. If two highlighted programs were on at the same time, there was a crudely drawn tape behind one of them. Green always won.

They are so damn organized, I observed with a scrunched up face, putting away the guide, forgetting about the hot actor. They already knew what program at what time they would be watching a week from now. I never even used to know what city I would be sleeping in the following week.

It was a little disturbing, all this control packed into one family.

I walked over to the wall right of the fireplace that was completely filled with long shelves, stretching along the entire length of the wall and covering it from floor to ceiling. There were no family pictures, which was unusual. I turned and briefly scanned the room, realizing that I hadn't seen any family photographs anywhere, only artistic, shadowy pictures to fill the empty spaces on the wall, never any faces, just flowers or structures.

Shrugging, but filing the information for later, I focused on the contents of the shelves. A lot of cultural trinkets from exotic trips and pictures of monuments. I recognized some churches from Paris, some bridges from Venice, the Sphinx in Egypt and the Taj Mahal in India. I knew them from those abroad travel magazines that my mom always got me, so I would have something to do while she drove our busted up truck sporadically through the United States.

I had never actually left the country. She always promised me that we would, once she had seen all of America. I never really believed her, because we were dirt poor. But now that she is dead I sometimes blame her for not keeping to that promise.

The final two pictures were of a big boat in a harbor somewhere and a large cottage in the countryside somewhere. Not interesting.

I moved to the "TV room", connected to the living room by heavy double doors. I wouldn't be surprised if the room was sound proof. The large, wine red couch faced a giant TV screen. Displayed on a dark dresser were trophies and award for science and engineering contests. Heero's name was on all of them. What a geek, I chastised.

All the way in the back was the sunroom. Glass walls and a glass roof allowed for a full view of the perfectly landscaped backyard. I quickly realized this room would be a disappointment discovery-wise, so I back-tailed out of there and made my way to Cameron's office.

It was a very spacious room, in the back of the house, nearly everything was of a dark, rich wood. In an ebony closet there were a ton of gold trophies. I squinted to read the plaques on the bases. The oldest ones were sports trophies, the newer ones were awards related to business. It was obviously a shrine to Cameron's accomplishments. Apparently those were more important than family photos.

I walked around the huge desk to investigate the contents and blinked in surprise when I noticed a picture frame on the corner of the desk. It was a sunlit picture of Tabytha and Heero. Tabytha wore a thin, summery dress with floral pattern and modest neck-line. She had her refined hand on Heero's shoulder. Heero looked younger than he did when I saw him the day before, a few years younger, maybe thirteen or fourteen. His clothes were much the same though, those dreadful, geeky pants and a formal button-up shirt. He wasn't smiling. Was the kid ever truly a kid?

I felt sad and angry, looking at that picture. That should have been me and my mom. I'm not sure if I would have been happy then, obviously Cameron was quite the dick, it takes a certain kind of person to be able to walk away from your family only to start a new one, like we weren't good enough. But It was bittersweet to wonder how different the course of our lives had been. Maybe mom would still be alive if it had been her in that summery, floral dress.

I wondered if Cameron sometimes thinks of the 'What if's' too, sitting here in this leather desk chair, looking up from his work at that picture frame. I wondered if sometimes he too thought that maybe it should have been us. I don't think I would have won him any science awards to display and mom wasn't classically pretty like Tabytha and honestly, she probably wouldn't have fit in that dress if things had been different, considering her severe sweet tooth but aren't there times he thinks to himself that maybe we would have been good enough anyway? Mom never really explained to me why he left, it was probably too painful for her. She couldn't even stay in the house where I had grown up, she wanted to leave all the bad memories behind as quickly as possible. She didn't even let me bring anything to remind me of him, it was too painful for her.

With a sigh I continued my search. I tried the drawers but they were locked. Probably dumb business stuff anyway. I did frown deeply when noticed there was no computer, even though there was a screen on the desk. I knew some screens were a computer in itself, but this one wasn't one of those. I walked around the desk and looked at the wires coming down from the screen. I followed them with my gaze and frowned deeply when I noticed the cables disappearing into a small hole in the back of the desk. I walked back and seated myself again, bending over to reach for the cabinet that had to be hiding the computer. When I tried it, I found it was locked.

Whatever happened to just password protecting your shit? I asked myself. I shrugged it off, in all likelihood it had something to do with his work, he probably had confidential business files on his home computer as well. Eager to continue my search in hopes of a grand, juicy discovery, I went on.

I left the office and went upstairs. First stop, the master bedroom.

The bedroom was enormous. There was far more space than a bedroom could possibly need. There was a queen sized bed, an antique dresser with matching mirror and chair and a loveseat under the window. Adjoined was a bigger-than-necessary bathroom done in polished marble and a large walk-in closet with his and her sides. Tabytha had a lot of dresses, Cameron had a lot of suits. They both had a lot of shoes. Everything looked expensive and the selection of labels that I looked at confirmed that.

Luis Vuitton. Chanel. Mugler. Hugo Boss.

Even their underwear had fancy labels. I was born without shame, so I had no trouble opening their underwear drawers. Cameron was a boxer-brief kind of guy. Tabytha was the lacy, less-is-more kind of woman. That didn't really mean anything whatsoever. Unfortunately, no embarrassing relics were hidden among the garments, so I shut the drawers and continued my hunt elsewhere. I tried a couple of the pockets of Cameron's jacket, but they were all empty.

Back to the bedroom. I walked up to the bed, noticing the shine of the silk sheets in the soft sunlight. The material must have cost a small fortune.

The contents of their nightstands were boring too. Health magazines and - judging by the peach-scented hand crème on one side and the large grey loafers on the other - gender appropriate, so they weren't using them for anything other than dieting and exercising tips.

The bathroom; I had been saving it for last because I expected it would yield the most interesting finds. It was very clean and organized, nothing strewn about. The his and her sinks were easily recognizable, shaving cream, deodorant and cologne by one, a large number of crèmes and perfumes by the other. Both sinks had their own cabinet, but the contents were disappointing; supplies for brushing and flossing teeth for each, feminine hygiene - I lived in close quarters with my mom for eight years so the tampon stuff never really freaked me out -, female shaving cream and razor, a lot of nail polish, couple of run of the mill drugstore medicine for everyday ails and a nose hair trimmer, the only thing that actually disgusted me a little.

The things I found were of no particular interest, but the absence of a product was mildly noteworthy.

No condoms or any other form of contraception. When I didn't find condoms in either nightstand, I figured they would be here, but I was wrong.

I wasn't really sure what this meant. Was Tabytha infertile? Did one, or both of them, had all the appropriate tubing cut. Or, worst of all: were they trying to make a baby?

Maybe they just don't have sex, at all, I thought, because it was the easiest thought to assume.

Done with the bedroom and adjoining amenities, I closed the door behind me after one last check to make sure it was like I had never been there. Knowing there would be nothing interesting in the other guestroom, as there hadn't been anything interesting in the one I currently occupied, the upstairs study was the last stop in the main house. Cameron had mentioned that Tabytha used it as her study, but I had been welcome to use it. I wouldn't find anything too private but I was on a roll and like any investigator devoted to the truth, I wasn't going to let any clues slip through my fingers.

The upstairs study was decidedly more modest than Cameron's office downstairs, but still more spacious than would be the case in the average home. The room took itself a lot less serious than the office, with soft colors and modern, casual furniture. There was no computer, so I assumed Cameron surprised Tabytha with a laptop someday in the past too, picked out by Heero of course. There were a lot of magazines but also a lot of drawings of what seemed to be event rooms. Maybe she was a party planner or something, I thought. I remembered that the note said something about a Charity Association, but I found nothing in the study that pointed to a commitment to any kind of charity. The only person's welfare Tabytha seemed to be concerned with was her own.

Above the desk was a large, framed poster of a young, tall, slim woman in a midnight blue, form fitted evening gown. She glared into the camera as she strutted down a white catwalk, rows of people in the shadow keeping attentive, mesmerized eyes on her. It wasn't until I had studied her face that I recognized the young woman was a young version of Tabytha. Apparently she had been a rather successful model and the poster, I realized, was her trophy, to be able to compete with all the gold and silver downstairs.

Again, I found only one picture frame on the desk. I had expected the photo to be one of the family, but instead it was just Cameron. He looked a lot younger, enhanced by the fact that he wasn't wearing a business suit. He looked so young, the picture couldn't have been taken long after when he left us. It hurt my feelings that this was the one picture she had chosen to display, like some sort of victory, like an announcement of "Look what great guy chose me over her!"

I felt a little deflated. Noticing my stomach had started to feel empty, I took a little break. I searched the cabinets and found and ripped open a bag of potato chips. I quietly and somberly made my way through about one third of the bag before I acknowledged that it wasn't the most nutritious meal and I put it away and grabbed another green apple.

I opened the door in the kitchen that lead to the garage. Another thing about the house that was exorbitantly spacious. There was a black motor cycle that made me a little jealous and caused me to spend some time in admiration. There were five bicycles in total. Three regular, urban bicycles and two mountain bikes. There was also the regular garden equipment and some tools for the cars, like starter cables. In the back was a large work bench, with a wide variety of tools and to the side a large steel storage cabinet. I supposed that was the place where Heero built his award-winning, trophy-worthy engineering stuff. The handles of the cabinet had a big padlock on them.

The winding, steel staircase didn't escape my attention. Heero had the entire loft above the big garage for himself, completely disconnected from the rest of the house. With that kind of privacy, it would be interesting to take a look.

I started climbing the stairs. I had a marginal feeling of guilt, after snooping around all day. But I rationalized it away by reminding myself that they already knew a lot about me, Cameron knew of my past, knew my mother and the social worker filled them in on the more current details of my life. It seemed only fair to me that I would get a little information about them too. So I pushed all guilty thoughts away and continued to ascend the narrow, twisting steps.

The landing was tiny, just enough to plant your feet on and gain your balance after basically contorting up the awkward stairs and there was barely any light. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

The door was locked.

"Hm." I tried it again.

Definitely locked.

"That's weird." I noted. "And disappointing." I wondered if locking his bedroom door was common, or if it was a new thing, like locking the liquor cabinet seemed to be a new thing. I accepted my defeat and the accompanying disappointment and carefully treaded back downstairs. I longingly looked at the motorcycle one last time before pushing through the door, back into the kitchen.

I stopped dead in my tracks when a pair of eyes landed on me.

"Duo, there you are."

I stuffed my hands deep in the pockets of my jeans but it didn't matter, I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar. "Hey. I was just looking around. Great bike!" I tried.

Tabytha sighed, but smiled anyway. "I had expected you'd be exploring." She commented and then walked over to the espresso machine. I wondered if that meant she had taken the time to hide certain things. "I hope you didn't overstep too many boundaries."

"Of course not." I lied. "I- I'd be way too embarrassed. I just looked at all the trophies and the bike." The lie continued. "I'm guessing Heero is pretty smart." I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction, hoping she would somehow forget where we started out.

"He is brilliant." She said but she lacked the motherly pride that I remembered from my own mom when she talked to random strangers about me. And I didn't even have awards to show for the shit I did that made her proud. She turned to face me, sipping her miniature cup of coffee. "He is also very private."

"Oh?" I pretended not to know what she was talking about, after all, I supposedly only looked at the bike.

She smiled again, a tiny, secretive smile. "I heard you coming down the stairs, Duo."

Shit. New strategy! "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." I couldn't find a lie quick enough to finish that sentence with.

"It's okay." Tabytha assured me. "I won't tell him. I understand your curiosity. It will be our little secret."

I hesitantly agreed with her. "Thanks." I fell back on my previous attempt to change the subject: "How was your meeting?"

"Oh, fabulous!" She exclaimed. "Just fabulous! I'm hosting an eighties themed dance for charity. Everything is going along marvelously!"

"What's the charity?"

My question seemed to baffle her a little, like she hadn't been asked that a lot, or maybe because the answer didn't really seem all that important for her to be expecting the question. After a substantial delay, she answered: "We are raising money for a new arts program in our local high school."

"Cool." What was I supposed to say? I didn't really care.

She finished her coffee and was silent for a while until she must have finally decided to bring up the topic she has been dreading to bring up. "Speaking of high school..."

I knew it was coming sooner or later, but I hadn't expected this soon and the sudden drop of my heart and the churning of my stomach startled me.

"No one is pressuring you, you need time to settle and feel at home, we understand that." She assured me. "But Cameron and I do think it is best that at some point you enroll in high school."

I probably shouldn't pick a fight with her about the fact that I don't think she and Cameron should get to make those decisions for me, so I wouldn't. I had to roll with the punches if I wanted to sit out my sentence peacefully. "Yeah. You're right."

She seemed a little surprised, maybe she had been expecting the exact kind of back lash that I had decided to hold back. "Great. Well, like I said, you should take your time. Cameron and I will contact the principle and see what we can work out."

"Thanks." With a nod I walked past her and went up to my room. It wasn't so much that I dreaded high school in itself. I was pretty outgoing and easy going and never had much trouble making friends with my peers, mostly because I don't really care what other people think of me and that confidence just attracts people. What troubled me most is that it would be the first time back in a school, back in a classroom, since middle school. In the beginning, after Cameron left, my mom and I didn't move around too often, we stayed in one place a few months at a time, so I could enroll in schools. After middle school, my mom decided that we needed to pick up the pace, so I never went to high school, she home-schooled me, or rather car- and hotel-schooled me. We never settled down again and I loved that, I loved being in this little world with her, that constantly shifting world, where every time I would open my eyes, the view would be different. I had never expected that once I would settle down and tie myself down, it would be in a place like this. With a father of whom I knew nothing more than a few vague childhood memories.

It was a harsh reality check and it had come much sooner than expected. I hadn't really been prepared for it yet.

Instead of wallowing in bed, I seated myself behind the desk and booted up the brand new laptop. Someone had already taken the time to install everything and hook it up to wireless internet before repackaging it as my present. Seeing as Cameron confessed to have little knowledge of computers, it seemed I had my "brother" to thank for that.

Using my limited skills that I picked up on public computers in internet café's and libraries, I accessed the internet and searched for the local high school.

Knowledge is power, my mom always said. If you are scared of something, learn about it, understand it and then you will see it is not that scary. It is how she had taught me from a young age not to be scared of lightening and spiders, by constantly talking about them, constantly explaining them.

Eastbroke High School was only a few miles away from my prison. It was an old, rather small high school that served the suburban region. It had solely unremarkable sports teams but on the school's official website they were celebrated like gladiators. I clicked on the tab of school clubs and teams and a long list of possible extracurricular activities appeared. Tabytha's observations that the arts program was meager was just, but it seemed like such an insignificant problem to devote time to. It's not like the artistic students had no other option, it was just limited. I clicked on "State Champion Mathletes" because it was the only club that proclaimed to be any kind of champion. A small page loaded, with little information, but the picture was satisfactory to my curiosity.

It was a group of four, geeky looking kids in the same outfit of baggie pants and blue cardigans underneath blue blazers with the school Mathlete logo. Only one of them didn't wear a big pair of glasses, his eyes burned into the sensitive film of the camera. He stood on the far right and even though the kid next to him was holding a big trophy and the other three were smiling their crooked, braced smiles, he wasn't smiling.

The text underneath read: "From left to right: Millicent Cho, Dwayne Luthern, Harrison Uln, Heero Maxwell. Winners of the State Championship."

I looked at his serious face, he seemed almost tortured in the view of the lens. Jealously, I was curious to know why he was better than me. Sure, he is a genius, I thought bitterly, but I am Cameron's biological son! Isn't that supposed to mean more than trophies? I didn't even know why I was jealous, it's not like I had any interest in reconnecting with Cameron. Cameron didn't want me, or my mom, he wanted a son like Heero and a wife like Tabytha. And if Heero and Tabytha wanted him back, than that was fine with me, they could have him and all his riches, they were meaningless anyway. I just wished I wouldn't have to be faced with it all the time. The only person in the world that ever wanted me, was dead now.

I stared at the picture of the high school, imagining myself walking across the courtyard soon. I decided to approach it from a positive angle, if I was at school I wasn't in that damned prison of a house. Unlike most kids, class would be my freedom.

I reached into the bottom drawer of the desk and lifted out the laptop box, heavy with the photo album inside. I carefully pulled the album out, even though it had suffered much in it's lifetime. I opened it on the first page, where there weren't any photographs, just a written text. One I had memorized by now.

_My dear son,_

_It is okay for you to miss me at times, but waste no time on it. Life is too short. That is the hardest lesson I have been forced to teach you and I'm sorry for the way in which I had to teach you. I pray that you will focus on the other lessons we have shared, the other things I taught you and showed you and the things you taught and showed me._

_I made this album for you because I want you to remember all of our great adventures. This album is filled with joyful and proud moments of our wonderful life together. I started working on it when you were only a little boy. I don't know if you remember, but you caught me working on this album once and I wouldn't show it to you, it was a surprise for when you were older; for now. You were very angry with me, because you always wanted to know everything. I hope you will never lose your curiosity and inquisitiveness, I hope you will use them to discover more things, to seek more answers and to gain more joyful and proud moments to get you through whatever pain you may come to suffer._

_I will cherish these memories forever and I hope you will too. As long as you do, I will be with you and I will accompany you on all your next great adventures._

_Love,_

_Mom._

I flipped the page and stared at the single photograph. It was a crude, slightly unfocused picture of my mother and me, taken by the waitress of the diner. I was just blowing out the nine candles on my chocolate birthday cake, that we later shared with the few other patrons in the diner on that early morning. It was the first birthday without Cameron, we had left the empty house behind only a few weeks prior and my birthday had marked a change. I guessed my mom had finally been able to let go and accept our new lives, accept that our family was just the two of us. It was probably a good thing that she never knew that only shortly after ditching our little family, he went ahead and imported his new, improved one.

I closed the album. For the time being, it was too hard. I securely put it away in the box, back in the drawer. I realized that to avoid anyone from finding it should they feel inclined to go snooping as I had, I had to take preventive measures. It was probably a good idea to use the high school free, accommodating period to make some changes in the room that would mask me putting a lock on the drawer. I was dying to get rid of the polite, neutral color scheme anyway. It wasn't me settling, it was the opposite, I decided firmly, it was me rebelling against the environment that had been forced upon me. Cameron did say I could change it any way I desired. I would be holding him to that.

And if he protested, I might get a fun and relieving argument out of it.

Time had passed quickly without me realizing it. Which was a good thing, considering the amount of days left in my sentence...

There was a gentle knock on my door and the door didn't open until I called: "Come in."

Cameron's tall and broad-shouldered frame occupied the doorway. He looked a little uncomfortable and out of his element.

I had moved to the bed, leaning against pillows propped up against the headboard, pretending to read a book while in fact I had been distracted by my thoughts. I cocked an eyebrow at him as he just stood there.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." He spoke with a soft voice.

I shrugged. "It's your house."

"That is not true, it is your home too now and this is your room." His assurance sounded rehearsed.

"Whatever." It was easier to be civil to Tabytha, she and I had no history, she had never consciously hurt me or my mom. With Cameron, it was different. I hated looking at his fake apologetic face. I wish people would just not do stuff they know will end up with them making an expression like that.

"I just came upstairs to tell you dinner is ready." Cameron said calmly. "Tabytha and I discussed it and it will be fine if you feel uncomfortable and would rather have your dinner in your room."

That's what I had done the previous evening. I had made it to the top of the stairs, following him, but then I had changed my mind. I couldn't do it. I couldn't sit there and listen to them talk about this perfect life that they robbed my mom and me of. That perfect life I was no part of and should never be. And I knew there would be questions, intended to break the ice and mend old scars, but I knew I wouldn't be able to answer them.

Feeling relatively safe in "my room" and not quite ready to give that up, I told him I wanted to have my dinner in my room.

"Okay. I will go get you a plate and a glass of water." He closed the door behind him.

I didn't misinterpret the gesture as kindness. He was probably pleased with my answer, he wanted me there no more than I wanted to be there.

That gnawed at me. The thought that I was giving him exactly what he wanted, hiding out in my room, not interfering with them, pretending not to be here so he could continue to pretend that I never even existed.

I promptly jumped out of bed. With my feet on the carpet there was a moment of hesitation but I pushed through it. I walked out the door, down the hall, down the staircase.

In the foyer I ran into Cameron, carrying a tray with my dinner as promised. His face betrayed little shock, but it was there and it fuelled my determination.

"I will be joining you for dinner after all." I announced, staring him down.

"That's great." He said after a short moment spent in thought. He turned on his heels and walked back, through the kitchen to the dining room.

I followed him.

"Our guest of honor will be joining us." Cameron said and he placed my plate and glass on the table, at the seat next to Tabytha. There was no mockery in his voice, but the comment still struck me as such. However, I was grateful that he seated me next to Tabytha as opposed to next to Heero, as Cameron sat at the head of the table. Judging by the look on Heero's face and the sharp, silver cutlery in his hands, I wouldn't be safe, sitting next to him. Added bonus, the opposite side of the table offered an excellent vantage point.

The boy was stunning, almost unnaturally so. It had never been a secret to me, or to my mom, that I was gay. It was never something I questioned, I had always known. And I never had to go through the trouble of telling my mom, because when I started getting older she would jokingly point out cute boys and make son-in-law punch lines. I realized this household would be decidedly less accepting of this alternative sexuality and because it was none of their business anyway, I figured it would be best to keep it under wraps. However, that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy the view, the only enjoyable view in the neighborhood.

Heero glared at me as I pulled out the chair and sat down at the table that was way to large for this little, dysfunctional gathering. He had caught me staring and it seemed to infuriate him. I obviously needed to be more careful and discreet. Though that would be challenge, I thought as I stole another glance his way, his features are striking and eye-catching. He would be a bittersweet addition to my punishment.

Tabytha alleviated the tense situation with carefree, enthusiastic chatter about the charity dance she was organizing, referring to many different people that I had never heard of, including more and more gossip into the story as it progressed. Apparently someone named Liberty was trying desperately to hide that she had a bun in the oven even though it was supposedly "so obvious". The way she was going on and on about it, it must have been pretty big news and not of the joyous kind.

That worried me. Why obsess so much with other people's lives? Why waste any time second guessing their decisions when there is a life of your own you have to lead?

I looked at Heero again, I just couldn't help it. He didn't seem particularly interested in the detailed tale either. With a deep, focused frown he was looking down at his plate. He mostly used his fork to push his dinner around, only occasionally bringing it up to his lips for a bite. His back was rigid, his shoulders were tense, his face was purposefully angled down, away from me.

Finally, Tabytha's story came to a conclusion and Cameron commented: "It's sounds like you have had a busy day."

She furiously nodded and took the first bite of a meal that had gone cold during her hasty monologue.

"How was your day, Duo?" He innocently inquired.

I studied his face, it didn't seem like Tabytha had informed him of my little tour of the house. "Nothing important."

"Are you enjoying your present?" He asked, eating absentmindedly.

"Yeah, it's great. Thanks again." I looked over at Heero and from the way he tensed up even further, I knew he knew I was addressing him when I continued: "I wanted to thank you too, it's a really cool choice. It was really nice of you." My voice dripped with fake politeness, but I didn't know how else to make small talk and to make the world's most insufferable dinner bearable.

Without looking up at me Heero grunted: "They made me."

"Heero." Tabytha reprimanded with a hiss.

Cameron urged her to calm down. "Heero, I know this all new to you, but you really should be nice. Duo is your brother after all."

This time, Heero looked up. His piercing blue eyes found me and pinned me in my seat, the sudden eye-contact was like he planted his fist in my gut, knocking the wind out of me. His voice was monotone but that only added to the impact of his words as he said: "I don't want a brother."

"Well that makes two of us." I snapped back, not exactly concerning myself with soothing the situation.

"Heero, be nice." Tabytha warned.

Cameron overruled her again. "Now now, everyone calm down, let's not get angry. Heero, I want you to apologize to Duo for what you said."

Heero never broke eye contact with me, his gaze incredibly intense and intimidating.

"Heero." Cameron urged.

"Fine. I'm sorry." He snapped at me and he rose out of his chair. "I'm sorry you are in my life!" He yelled and then he stormed off.

Tabytha called after him. "Heero! Heero! Get back here, Heero, right now!"

The garage door slammed shut definitively.

"I'm really sorry about this, Duo." Cameron said to me once the commotion had settled. "It is just hard on him, all these changes. Surely you understand."

"Yeah. Sure..." I muttered. This kid thinks he has it tough? He doesn't even know tough. He has everything he could have ever wished for and he thinks a sudden, long lost "brother" being thrown into the mix is such a big change? Try losing your mom, being taken out of the only life you know and being dumped in the lap of a man who abandoned you for a better family, in a place where you know no-one and you have no securities.

Tough luck little rich, genius-boy, I thought bitterly.

So no, in truth, I wasn't all that sympathetic to his struggles. The least he could do was pretend to be nice to be. I didn't particularly care if he liked me or not, he had a pretty face, sure, but that didn't mean I would be pursuing him and on top of that, just because a piece of papers says that we are brothers, doesn't mean we are and doesn't mean we should act like brothers. So it didn't matter if he hated me or vice versa. I just didn't want another factor in this household to make my stay even more uncomfortable. Tiptoeing around Heero and being civil with him to avoid discussions on the matter with "moms and pops" would only be extra work for me, depleting my already insufficient supply of patience and self-control.

The atmosphere was extremely uncomfortable. Cameron and Tabytha continued to eat, but probably only as an excuse not to talk.

After a while, Cameron paused his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth and said to me: "If you would rather go upstairs, you can."

I had a feeling he only said it because he would rather have me go upstairs. I could have stayed, to annoy him, but I would not only make it hard on him, I would also make it unnecessarily hard on myself. So I got up and walked away. I left my plate, even though I didn't get the chance to eat much. I had lost my appetite anyway.

I knew I was an unwelcome presence in this family, but to have it yelled in my face made the truth all the more sour. They didn't want me to be here. I didn't want to be here. And yet there was nothing we could to change the situation. The whole situation was so fucked up!

There was nothing here to experience other than discomfort and hurtful, old memories.

I knew I had to stand it, but I didn't know if I could without forfeiting my last shred of sanity.


	3. Chapter 3

**Brothers**

**Chapter Three**

It was seven thirty and I had no intention, whatsoever, to depart from the warmth of my sheets and the comfort of my pillow that I hugged to my chest. The sun was already bright, but my curtains were dense and allowed for only a single slither of light to run across the opposite wall, like a scar bursting with life and light. I had been staring at it, watching it as it moved agonizingly slow. I had been awake for a while, but like I said, not nearly ready to get up and face the day. I had been elongating the nights and subsequently shortening the days ever since I arrived at my veritable prison, nearly three weeks ago. I was sick and tired with sleep, my back was sore from staying in bed well past noon each day, but it was better that joining 'the family' downstairs.

It was seven thirty and I had no intention to get up, however, after a persistent knock on the door, the knob turned and the door was pushed open. My heart pounded at the confrontation with the novel and unexpected event.

Cameron appeared in the doorway, looking disturbingly perfect. Not a single blonde hair out of place. Not a single crease is his grey suit, nor the white shirt. The black shoes shone in the limited lighting and his pink tie looked unrealistic.

Meanwhile, in the bed, I knew myself to be a disastrous mess. Come morning, the sheets would always be wrapped around my legs and my hair would be everywhere. The elastic band that had held the braid would probably be found somewhere under my pillow or it would fall out of my shirt once I would get dressed. I was not ashamed though. I owed this man nothing, let alone making myself presentable at an ungodly hour.

"It's time to get up," Cameron said, his deep, baritone voice commanding and authoritarian.

If there is one thing in the world I do not respond positively to, it is anything to do with authority. So I challenged: "Why?"

"We are having breakfast. In this family, we eat as many meals a day as possible together. I figured since dinner had been going well lately, it is time you joined us for breakfast."

I was completely perplexed, dumbstruck and silent as I tried to figure out what distorted definition of "well" could possibly have led him to this questionable conclusion. Dinner was the most excruciating time of the day, sitting at a table with people who all seemed to be equally oblivious to my existence. Cameron and Tabytha talked about the most unimportant and benign things, mostly revolving around the household or gossip Tabytha had picked up. Heero had changed his strategy from refusing to eat, to eating as quickly as humanly possible to be excused and head back up to his room, as far away from me as possible. We were living in the same house, but I hardly saw any of them, Cameron worked seven days a week, six at the office and one in his home office. Tabytha made herself busy with unimportant charity work - she was currently in the process of getting funding for a recreational wing at the hospital. Nothing wrong with that, but she wasn't exactly saving lives. Heero would either be at school or in his bedroom and Tabytha had strongly advised me not to seek contact, unaware that I had absolutely no intention of initiating any sort of contact.

So to say things were going well seemed far-fetched to me, the way seven dwarves and a magical kiss were unlikely. And thus, the most eloquent response I could manage was: "Excuse me?"

"Better get downstairs before your pancakes go cold." With that Cameron took a step back and closed the door behind him.

I was such a whore for anything sweet and damn him for knowing that! As soon as I envisioned syrup drizzling on a stack of pancakes, I knew I would be joining them for breakfast, though, out of self-respect, I argued with myself for a little while longer, just for the sake of it. Then I jumped into black jeans, a black shirt and switched out one of the stud earrings with a skull and cross - to piss them off - and fashioned my hair in the most chaotic, unruly braid ever before heading downstairs. As soon as I opened the bedroom door I was guided by the smell.

"Good morning, Duo. How nice that you are joining us!" Tabytha greeted, gesturing with a spatula. She was wearing a pink, frilly apron, with not a single spot on it as I imagined she was pretty particular about not actually getting it dirty. "Take a seat at the breakfast table; I'll bring you your pancakes."

In the kitchen by the window, there was a smaller, round table that seated four, as opposed to the giant, rectangular table in the dining room. Heero and Cameron were seated next to each other, both absentmindedly eating their breakfast as they each leafed through the morning newspaper. One of Tabytha's jackets hung over the back of the chair next to Cameron, claiming the chair as hers, forcing me to seat myself beside Heero.

I scraped my throat and sat down. "Good morning."

There was no response.

"Don't mind them," Tabytha said as she placed a plate in front of me, "they always lose themselves in that piece of recycled paper. Don't ask me why, I can't stand newspaper, the paper dries out my fingers, you know? The thought alone gives me goosebumps. Like nails on a blackboard, do you know what I mean?"

I stared at her as she sat down, overwhelmed by the volume of words. I supposed I should be grateful I wasn't being ignored for the moment, but the alternative quickly lost its novelty and thus its appeal.

"I get the same feeling when Phu files my nails. Oh, Phu is my nail stylist. Her name isn't actually Phu, but she is Vietnamese and when she introduced herself, my mind stopped working after Phu. It was unpronounceable. But she doesn't mind me calling her Phu. I suppose she knew when she moved to America people would have trouble with her name, after all, it is not our responsibility to say her name right. She can't really pronounce my name either and that's fine too, although I do think she should, by now, know how to speak a little English."

I looked down at my delicious looking stack of pancakes but cursed inwardly. I had lost my appetite.

"Duo," Cameron thankfully interrupted Tabytha, as he appeared to have lost interest in the newspaper, "are you excited about today? Or nervous maybe?"

I frowned. "Why, what's today?"

Cameron turned to Tabytha. "I thought you had talked to him about this."

Tabytha responded defensively: "Well, I did, but only a little, I didn't mention a specific day or anything. I thought you were going to discuss this with him."

"Discuss what?" I interjected.

Cameron looked at me apologetically. "You are expected at school as of today."

My throat suddenly went dry, causing me to cough violently. I got the coughing under control with a few sips of water, my incredulous stare, however, could not be helped so easily.

"I'm sorry," he continued, "apparently Tabytha and I both assumed that you had been informed. I called the principal as soon as you arrived. He says that it is fine for you to start in your age appropriate class and see how it goes. He wanted to hold you back a year, but I assured him Helen home schooled you well."

"No!" I slammed my fists down on the table, causing the china and the silverware to rattle.

Heero looked up at me for the first time in weeks.

"No?" Cameron retorted, offended.

"You don't get to say her name and you don't get to pretend like you knew her!" I screamed as I rose out of my seat. "You have no right! You have no right!"

"Duo, I understand you are upset, but I was married to Helen for nearly ten years," Cameron calmly replied, not impressed at all by my rage.

"And then you left and everything changed! She changed! You don't know her, you didn't respect her enough to know her! So you don't get to pretend to some high school principal that you have even the slightest idea of how well she home schooled me!"

Finally I seemed to have managed to silence him. He just blinked at me. I reeled back like a startled, wild animal when I felt Tabytha's hand on my arm.

"Duo, you don't have to go to school today if you don't want to."

"Oh, I will be going to school," I assured her, gesturing around me dramatically as I added: "Any excuse to get out of this goddamned house!" Then I stormed off. I contemplated going back upstairs, but since I was already fully dressed, I ripped open the front door and stepped outside, using all my strength to pull the door shut as loudly and violently as possible. I roughly wiped away the tears that stung my eyes and determinedly headed in a certain direction even though I didn't have a clue where the school was.

No one came after me.

I was upset that I had let him get to me; I had been doing so well, but the moment his lips formed her name, something in me snapped and a dam burst. Like when a dam bursts, there was no stopping the inevitable.

I aimlessly roamed the streets, more occupied with fighting my emotions than with finding the school, yet it was the latter that I miraculously succeeded in. The building was relatively small and unremarkable, encircled by a wrought iron fence that proudly bore the sign of the school. The yard was completely empty and I figured I must have been early, however, when I looked up at the clock on the tower of the school building, I noted classes had long started. I had been walking around town for nearly three hours, completely lost in thought. At the gate I hesitated, I was unwilling and completely unprepared in every sense of the word, but I reminded myself that school would likely be the only thing to look forward to as I sat out my sentence. Who would have ever thought?

With a surrendering sigh I stepped onto the grounds. Once inside, the administration desk was easy to find. A grumpy, elderly lady gave me directions to the principal's office, a short walk down a narrow, dark hallway, almost ominous and threatening. At the end there was a waiting room, with several empty chairs, and through the frosted glass of the door to the principal's office I could see two seated figures. Their muffled voices were incoherent as the sound barely made it through the walls.

Still jittery with the emotionally laden morning, I couldn't bring myself to sit down, so I paced the waiting room instead, studying the educational anti-drugs, anti-smoking and anti-sex posters. How dull.

I jumped when the door suddenly opened.

A student looked at me with wary eyes before quietly passing me by and heading back through the hallway.

"Can I help you?" The principal was a short, chubby man with an impatient voice and stern, beady eyes.

"I think so. I'm Duo Maxwell, this is my first day here."

"Right, Maxwell, come in."

I followed him inside the small, musty smelling office and closed the door behind me. At his urging, I sat down in the seat across from his desk as he too sat down with a heavy sigh, his desk chair creaking eerily.

With his short, thick fingers he started searching through the mess on his desk. "Here it is." He leaned forward to hand me a piece of paper.

I had to get up and reach my hand out as far as I could to take it from him. When I sat down and studied it, I instantly recognized it as a class schedule.

"I advised your father that you should be held back a year but he was adamantly against that," he said with an annoyed tone. "As you probably know, people don't say no to your father."

I didn't know how to respond to that. Cameron had indeed given me that impression, but I didn't really know him, in spite of the fact that he was my father, so I could make no judgment. I decided not to say anything, as a reaction wasn't required anyway.

"So I suppose I'll just let the fact that you are extremely late on your first day slide."

"Thank you, sir," I said insincerely as he made no attempt to hide his own rude attitude.

"You're far too late to join the class that is currently in session, you will only be disruptive. You should wait these last few minutes and start with the next period. Besides, you'll probably need the time to find your class. Do you have your books?"

"No, sir."

"Then you'd better hurry. Ask the concierge to take you to the basement, we store the supply of schoolbooks there, here is a list of the books you'll need..." His fingers delved back into the mess on his desk and managed to produce another piece of paper. He checked it before handing it to me. "Good luck."

"Thank you, sir." I left the office and walked back to the administration desk where I asked for the concierge. The old woman didn't even respond, instead, an equally old man in a grey coverall emerged from the back, taking a large bite out of a thick sandwich.

"I need some books," I explained, holding up the list. I was a fish out of water but I was in no panic; in my lifetime I had met so many different people and had been thrust into so many different situations, I had learned to deal with basically anything. Although, of course, nothing could have prepared me for moving in with my father after eight years of absence.

"Follow me," he said with around a mouthful of sandwich.

I followed the sounds of the rattling keys attached to his belt as he guided me down a dark staircase. He unlocked a door and finally bothered to flick on a light. The many stacks of books were a little daunting and for a moment I stood there, clueless, the list limp in my hand. Luckily the concierge was helpful enough to point out where I could find the books for each specific subject, and because I didn't have a bag with me he handed me two plastic bags with the school logo on it and lent me a pen. He made me promise to return it.

He laughed at all the jokes I made. I didn't make jokes for his benefit; it was just my way of reassuring myself and getting myself into a more suitable state of mind for one's first day at school. I felt like if I couldn't successfully distract myself from what had happened that morning, I might throw a huge, unprovoked tantrum in the middle of one of the classes.

After I had entertained him he was kind enough to show me to the correct classroom and I got there just in time. The teacher was about to close the door but held it open as she saw us walking up to her.

I apologized as I passed her and walked into the classroom. I was momentarily stunned when silence overcame the entire class and all eyes turned to me. Instead of lingering at the front of the class I was quick to spot and conquer an empty table, unfortunately at the front of the classroom. I sat down and lay my two heavy bags on the table. I already knew I would be the freak with the plastic bags, but that was the least of my concerns. A lot of things that are usually very important to someone my age, become very unimportant very quickly when you're dealing with the death of your mother. I would only be the freak with the plastic bags for a little while, until they would get to know me. Then I would be the freak with the dead mom.

"You're Duo Maxwell, right?" the teacher asked after saying goodbye to the concierge.

I was a little surprised to find her looking directly at me. I had secretly hoped she would just ignore me and start her class as usual. No such luck. "Yeah."

"Why don't you introduce yourself to your classmates, make some friends?"

Every idiot knew that making friends was a far more complicated process than a simple introduction, but I wasn't bothered. I felt no need to make friends, or even acquaintances. I was only here as long as my sentence lasted, then I would be gone, to never return. Not to say I wasn't going to put in any effort. I figured it would be beneficial to my stay here to at least make some allies.

I stood up from my seat and turned around to face many curious expressions. "Hi, my name is Duo and I'm an alcoholic."

Most of them laughed.

"I saw your anti- drugs, -smoking and -sex campaign posters so I'm pretty sure the teachers here won't like me, but I hope you will," I spoke glibly, earning more smiles and even some laughter.

"Thank you for your insightful introduction, Mister Maxwell. You can sit down now," the teacher interfered.

I did as I was told and started searching the bags for the appropriate books. I distracted myself from personal thoughts with the material and found I could easily keep up, in spite of the fact that I had been home schooled for the past few years and my mom had lost focus on my academics the final few months of her life.

The classes were repetitive. Some of the faces changed, but the routine never did. I didn't have trouble finding my way around the school as the principal had predicted. The school wasn't very large and I had been confronted with much more challenging layouts, like driving my mom all around the country ever since I was sixteen.

The dull grind of the day came to a screeching halt when I entered the physics classroom and I instantly knew he was there, before I had even consciously registered his figure in the chaos of mingling students. I think it was because the moment I stepped through the door, I felt his eyes on me. The teacher approached me, shook my hand and introduced himself. He seemed very friendly. But I immediately forgot his name and his face.

Finally, I looked right at him.

The students were slowly making their way to their appointed tables. Seated at each table were two students, but, as luck would have it, the seat next to his remained unoccupied.

"You can sit next to Heero," the nameless, faceless teacher spoke, pointing at the lone boy in the back. "Hey, both your last names are Maxwell. You guys don't happen to be related, do you?"

"We're brothers. Sort of," I grumbled. Heero seemed equally disappointed. And pissed off.

"Excellent! Then it should be no problem. We finally have an even number of students, now Heero won't have to work on projects alone anymore."

The Heero in question couldn't be more displeased about this fact. If looks could kill... well, then both our problems would be solved.

"Excellent indeed," I agreed sarcastically.

The teacher didn't make me introduce myself to the entire class. By then there was no need anyway, all the faces were familiar. I had shared at least one earlier class with all of them. Except Heero of course. I sincerely hoped the similarities in our schedules did not extend beyond physics. I dragged my feet walking up to him. He was already busily ignoring me, leafing through his textbooks. I slammed the two bags onto the table, purposefully loud and with a sigh I seated myself on the high chair.

Luckily the class was mostly theoretical and the small assignment we had to complete we could do individually, so we could continue to pretend that the other wasn't even there. Though in reality I was hyper aware of his presence. Even the slightest move he made I could feel on my skin and in my muscles, as if the air displacement physically moved me. And I went crazy wondering if I should give amicable conversation another try, with each technical term that I read in the text, the thought crossed my mind to pretend not to know what the term meant, just to have an excuse to say something to him. However, I firmly decided against those tactics. He already hated me. I didn't need him to hate me and think I was an idiot.

It was the most uncomfortable fifty minutes of my life.

When the bell rang he was on his feet and away in a heartbeat, leaving me behind.

I can't stand a year of this, I told myself, gathering my books back into one of the bags. I had hoped for school to be a welcome escape, but this single class I shared with him posed a very real threat to that. There would be no avoiding him, not in the way we had both planned to. Sooner or later we would have to work together on an assignment. I feared that day, I really feared it. Heero was incredibly attractive, but over the past few weeks looking at him had not become the enjoyment that I had expected it to be, it was incredibly uncomfortable and confrontational. I had come to see him as the physical embodiment of everything about the living situation that I hated. And honestly? Pierce his ears and put in a cross and I'd be looking at a reflection of my inner self; struggling, filled with hatred, betrayal, unadulterated anger and the yearning to just be left the hell alone.

The classroom had emptied out by the time I had risen to my feet. I walked up (to) the teacher, seated behind his desk. It was the final class of the day, so no students were waiting outside.

"Excuse me, sir?" I started.

He looked up from his papers, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "Yes, the other Mister Maxwell?"

"About that... isn't it possible for us to partner up with someone else?"

My request surprised him. "You don't want to work with your own brother?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Well, he's only my brother on paper. In reality, we are total strangers."

He frowned but didn't ask any questions regarding the strange familial arrangement. Instead, he said: "This seems like as good an opportunity as any to get to know each other, then. If you really feel you have to, you could ask one of the other's to exchange partners with you, but I doubt you will succeed. They are all good friends and have been working together as partners the entire year, most even several years. Moreover, hm, how do I put this in a way that won't get me fired?" he scratched his scruffy beard. "Heero is a very... driven student, that makes him... challenging to work with. Heero doesn't really get along well with the others."

That didn't sound very promising in the least. "Can't we just work individually, then?"

"I'm sorry, but if the class has an even number of students, I am required to partner everyone up." He turned his attention back to his work, making it evident this discussion had come to an end and so had my hope.

I walked back to the administration desk to return the pen to the concierge. He asked me how my first day had gone, I answered with a lighthearted joke that made him laugh. But my heart felt heavy and I felt like I could cry if I would let myself. Having no idea how to get back to my prison, I got on the school bus and asked the driver, he dropped me off at the nearest stop, from where I could trace my steps back to the house.

I paused on the sidewalk in front of the house, ignoring the curious stares of a nosy neighbor. This wasn't home, I recognized, so coming back to this house at the end of a challenging day felt wrong and made me sad. I wished I still had my mom to come home to. She made every hotel, every motel, a home. Even when we had to sleep in the car from time to time, she made me feel at home. I missed that and I realized I would forever miss that.

The thought made me nauseous.

I blinked when the front door opened. Tabytha appeared in the doorway. She smiled at me as if everything was right in the world and between us.

"Come in," she urged me and I reluctantly obeyed. "Oh dear, don't tell me you've been lugging those bags around all day."

"It's no problem."

"There is a gift waiting for you in your bedroom. We had wanted to give it to you this morning, but you left so quickly." Her unwavering smile was unsettling.

"Oh," was my sole response. I started up the stairs.

"Do you want a snack?" She called after me.

I hadn't eaten anything all day, I didn't even have money with me to buy lunch, so I was starving. I wished I could have refused her offer, but my growling stomach made it impossible. I came back down. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

"Don't worry, Heero isn't home yet," she said with a wink. "I saw on the board that he has an after school meeting with the chess club."

Of course he does, I thought with a roll of my eyes. I followed her into the kitchen where a plate with a tasty looking sandwich and a large glass of orange juice was waiting for me at the breakfast table. To my dismay, Tabytha sat down next to me, but I could make no objections, annoying and unreal as she was, of the three I liked her the best. With her, everything seemed fake, but I preferred that to the way I felt when I was with Cameron or Heero.

"How was your first day?" she asked nicely, completely neglecting the fact that all of them had failed to mention I would even be going to school today.

"Fine," I lied.

"That's good to hear. Did you make any friends?"

"Sure."

"Wonderful. Do you have any classes with Heero?"

"Yeah." The first honest answer.

"Oh, that is very good, you two should really get to know each other." She poured herself a floral-patterned cup of tea. "Once you get to know him, he's not that bad. Just, RTFM," she finished with a chuckle.

I noted that was a strange thing for a mother to say about her son, adopted or not, "he's not that bad". I frowned and asked her what RTFM meant.

"Read The Fucking Manual," she replied with a painfully sweet tone of voice.

Strange indeed.

"Heero just has a lot of rules," she elaborated, "as long as you don't break them, you should be fine."

"What's the most important rule?" I wondered, purely out of curiosity.

"Never go into his room uninvited. But never interfere with his school work or his projects either, that is also a pretty big one."

"Is he, like, autistic?" I inquired cautiously.

Tabytha let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, no, at least, I don't think so. He is just like Cameron in that regard. They are both very particular. I suppose it is because they are both geniuses. Their work is what is most important to them and they just don't want to be disturbed."

"Oh." I pondered over that for a moment before I abused the window of opportunity with more questions, starting with: "What is Cameron's work exactly?"

I knew she had misinterpreted my intentions when her initial, enthusiastic reaction was: "Oh, how nice that you show interest in your father's career!" She continued: "Are you familiar with Archer pharmaceuticals?"

"Aiming for a better life?" I responded, remembering the slogan from old ad campaigns.

"Exactly!"

"Didn't that company go bankrupt a couple of years ago?" It seemed unlikely to me that a tanked business could pay for this spacious house and the nice cars in the driveways.

"It did, it was then that my father realized the company needed change, so he stepped down and appointed Cameron as CEO," Tabytha said proudly.

"Your father?"

"Yes, my maiden name is Tabytha Archer. Anyway, your father has successfully turned the business around; it is now the fastest growing pharmaceutical company in the state. Your father is a brilliant businessman. My father died in peace, knowing Cameron was at the helm. Cameron was originally a lawyer, like his father- your grandfather - but he has great business instinct, at least, that what my father always used to say. I don't know anything about the business myself," she said with a girlish giggle. "You know, your grandfather is the head of the most successful law firm in the country."

I got the distinct impression that all this grandeur was incredibly impressive and important to her. In sharp contrast, I felt incredibly apathetic in the face of it all. I had never even thought about the fact that I had grandparents. My mother's parents had deceased when she was only a young girl, she talked lovingly, but little of them. There had been no sisters or brothers for me to call aunt or uncle. It had always just been the two of us, with the exception of those few times we would visit old friends of hers. I would have been more impressed if Tabytha had told me of a grandfather who had missed me, a grandfather who wished to meet his long lost grandson. But it wasn't like that.

I finished the sandwich paying little attention to her endless string of words. I understood the desire to fill an uncomfortable silence; I had just never really been confronted with how annoying it could be to be at the receiving end of the rambling. In spite of what I had believed, it didn't make the situation any more bearable, just insufferable in a different way. I headed upstairs still chewing on the last bite. In my room, on my bed, I found my present. I felt almost violated, since I had grown attached to the privacy of my room, to know one of them had been in there disturbed that little bit of peace of mind that I had acquired.

Sitting on top of the perfectly made bed - which I had left that morning in a tangled mess - was a hip but sturdy shoulder bag of a well-known and expensive sportswear brand. It was mostly black but with a graphic blue and white design on the front. I noticed the little note thoughtfully placed in front of it.

_Duo,_

_To make school more bearable._

_Cameron & Tabytha._

I wasn't eager to accept too many gifts from them, but this was one I could not refuse. I couldn't walk around with a plastic bag for the continuation of my academic career. I dumped my books on the bed and then kneeled in front of the desk. Softly - as if someone might be listening by the door - I opened the bottom drawer and inspected the insides. It seemed to be just the way I had left it, the box exactly an inch away from the left and front panel of the drawer, with the lettering and the picture facing the other way. I needed a lock. If they could keep secrets from me, I damn well had the right to keep secrets from them. I needed to change the entire room, perhaps to mark it as my own territory; maybe then I'd feel a little bit better, a little more at ease.

Soon it was time for dinner and I was summoned downstairs. Cameron, in spite of his busy job, made it home for dinner every day to take his seat at the head of the table. Tabytha bustled about in the kitchen to perfectly arrange everyone's plate and she would place it in front of us in a certain, thought-through way. The silver cutlery was perfectly aligned and the crystal water glasses were polished to perfection. However, none of these efforts could make the event into a success. The proceedings never changed. No one mentioned my outburst of that morning and Cameron didn't seem to feel any more uneasy in my presence than I had deemed usual.

As always, Tabytha rattled on about her insignificant day and blew everything out of proportion to make it pass as meaningful. Cameron just listened. Heero ignored all of us, focused on his food consumption. I never felt like I had the right to speak, or that I had anything to say. That evening, though, I opened my mouth anyway.

"Hey, you guys said I could change the room any way I wanted, right?"

Tabytha and Cameron seemed confused and surprised that I finally spoke. "Of course. It's your room." Cameron eventually said.

"Well, then I'll need some money," I continued as he fell short of offering.

"Of course. Anything you want."

"And I'll need to use the car."

"Naturally," Cameron responded absentmindedly.

"We could go get things together," Tabytha suggested enthusiastically. "I have excellent taste, I would love to help you!"

"If you don't mind, I'd prefer to do it by myself," I responded as neutrally as possible.

"Oh..." She seemed disappointed to have a new project taken away from her, but I wasn't about to let her take control.

"That is fine, Duo," Cameron said with an understanding tone. I suspected him of placating me and was proven right when he added: "But considering what happened, I'm sure you understand I can't just give you money and lend you our SUV."

My body tensed up at the presentation of this very uncomfortable topic. I hadn't even considered doing that, but now that he mentioned it, I realized I deserved to be kicked in the head for not thinking of it myself. It would have been a good plan, had Cameron not realized it too.

"We'll do it next Saturday," he continued diplomatically, "I'll drive you wherever you want and I promise I will just wait by the checkout counter. I won't interfere."

Desperate to get out of this contrived father-son Saturday bonding experience so much so that I struggled for coherence, I stammered: "I don't... I'm not sure..."

"You know what?" He interrupted me and he raised his fork as if he was to announce something brilliant, "You're right. That's a bad idea. I have a much better idea."

I waited with stomach turned further and further into an unrecognizable knot that made even the sight of the remaining food on my plate unbearable.

"Heero can go with you."

This seemed to shock the Asian boy. For the first time in all these awkward dinners, he looked up. He snapped his neck and looked at Cameron with big eyes. Big, betrayed and shocked eyes.

I wasn't surprised. The opposite in fact. My immediate thought was: of course. After all, didn't the greater scheme of the universe constantly occupy itself with the task of how to make my life just that little bit extra miserable? This was the manifestation of all that effort.

And so, I wasn't the least flabbergasted, only defeated, when he added insult to injury and suggested, with a tone of voice that clearly indicated it was more a command disguised as a suggestion: "In fact, Heero can help you. You could probably use an extra set of hands."

"That is an excellent idea, honey!" Tabytha supplied us of her meaningless input and approval.

"I just... I wanted it to be my project," I argued in vain.

"And I want my sons to be able to look each other in the eye."

At his words, Heero purposefully angled his face down at the table's surface, completely unwilling to heed Cameron's request.

His sons. The words left a bitter taste in my mouth. It implied I was somehow not only part of him, but also part of Heero. I looked at the other son, at my brother, with whom I bore no resemblance and who I didn't know. He was aware of my gaze, his body became even more tense, so tense his hands were trembling, the only indication that he was not carved out of stone; cold and unmoving, existing but not living.

He never met my gaze, his eyes still focused on Cameron, wordlessly trying to change his mind.

It wasn't going to happen, I knew it wasn't. I accepted my fate, knowing there was nothing I could do to refuse it, hoping it wouldn't turn out to be too bad. But I feared I would not be so lucky, I hadn't been in a long time. None of the things that were happening to me indicated that I had any sort of luck on my side. First my dad left me and my mom, forcing us into a wayward, gypsy-like existence, rich only in our minds and hearts, dirt poor to the world and our growling stomachs. Then my mom died. Then I was forced to live with my estranged father as the court denied me early emancipation. Now this, being forced to spend time with someone who resented me so much he couldn't even bear to look at me.

Swell.

The discussion, if there ever was one, was over. It had been decided. The dinner had made it instantly clear to me what kind of authoritarian figure Cameron was within the household. Not even Heero, who must have been hating the idea even more so than I did, opened his mouth to argue. After staring at him lengthily without result, he bowed his head and scrutinized his food, long lost was the appetite to consume it.

When I was dismissed I fled upstairs. The atmosphere had become even more suffocating. Tabytha's lack of words created tension. Heero's anger and dismay thickened the air. The scraping of Cameron's knife over the ceramic plate as he was the only one to finish his meal, made me cringe.

To clear my thoughts I reached into the bottom drawer of the desk and retrieved the thick photo album. I had never had the opportunity to leaf through it and look at all the pictures. She had only given it to me on her deathbed, her hands too weak to lift the thing. She just pushed it towards me over the white hospital sheets. Her skin was as white as her teeth, I had noticed, when she offered me a smile. Looking at the images was overwhelming, both in a sad and happy kind of way. Happy to see her face and feel her so close to me, filling my heart, the past touch of her fingers ghosting over my cheek. But deeply sad, knowing she was only a memory now. A memory and a tombstone, in the city we happened to be passing through when her body decided it had been enough.

I reread the letter on the first page, only now noticing the tear stains, then realizing quickly they were my own. I pulled my sleeve down over my hand and used the rough fabric to wipe away the single trail of tears that had escaped my left eye. I took a deep breath and released it slowly and I touched her face in a picture where she was smiling. I was still a young boyand we were at some amusement park. The memory of the day eluded me but her smile was exactly the way I remembered. It had never changed. It was beautiful, but with a sadness to it that I only started to recognize once I grew older. Sadness at her husband abandoning her, I supposed.

As painful as some of the memories could be, I'd rather wallow in remembrance of her, than confront myself with thoughts of my present and my future.

My progress through the book was slow. I stopped for long moments on each page, studying the pictures, playing out the events in my head, closing my eyes and allowing myself to smile when a happiness I hadn't enjoyed in a long time surfaced and enveloped me. I stopped when the pictures started to show signs of my mother's illness. The exhaustion, the paleness of her skin, her pain, her thinning hair and the IV's were still crisp and clear in my mind and I didn't need photographs to remind me.

I dragged my feet all through the week, hoping that somehow, time would fall into step with my slow pace. Of course I contemplated blowing the whole thing off, especially when during a dinner halfway into the week, Cameron again insisted that Heero not only accompany me to the store, but also help me with my room. I guess most of my motivation for going along with it was pettiness. I knew I would be doing Heero a favor as well by calling it off, so I chalked it up to cruel and unusual punishment for us both. Maybe I would even learn something, actually get to know Heero or the family better. Not that I was interested. Knowledge is power. I definitely needed some more power.

As expected I encountered no trouble in school. The students responded favorably to the anarchistic quality of my character. The mystery and the rebellion expressed in my clothes, my many earrings and my inexplicably long hair drew them in. Many of them had a serious desire for "cool by proxy", thinking that even being loosely associated with me would somehow make them a rebel. Something none of them actually had the courage to openly be. It was a novel experience for me, being engulfed by high school society, one that I got bored with quickly, but I knew better than to make enemies and create yet another hostile environment in my life.

My muscles were sore after Physics on Thursday, a full hour of stiffly sitting next to my brother, expertly ignoring me. I rolled my shoulders and my neck as I walked out of the classroom. Heero had already gone, uncannily swift in his departure.

"Hey dude, wait up!" a deep voice called.

Having no reason to assume the person was addressing me, I casually continued on my path towards the next class. I was startled, but managed to control my response, when a tanned hand landed on my shoulder.

"Wait up, man," that voice said again.

I turned around and felt my sore muscles tense up anew when I was faced with a group of four tall, bulky built young men in matching Letterman jackets. Even as someone who had been home schooled most his life, I knew what the stereotypical jock looked like and I also knew what a guy, looking the way I did, could expect from them. Their smiles were unexpected and disarming, but I remained suspicious of their intentions. Many people had approached me during those first few days with amicable intentions, but they had all been common folk. I realized, within the boundaries of high school society, I was faced with royalty. I was annoyed more than I was unnerved.

"What's up, dude?" the guy who had had his hand on my shoulder said.

"Nothing. Just minding my own business." I prepared to turn around but his words froze me.

"Your last name is Maxwell? Like Heero Maxwell?"

With a quirked eyebrow and piqued interest I responded: "Yeah." I kept my body half turned away from them. I was taller than all four of them, but I knew that if it would turn into a fight, they would have the upper hand.

"Dude, that's fucked up man, are you guys like family or something?"

"Maxwell is not an uncommon name. It could be a coincidence," I pointed out, not eager to tell them anything. Like I said, knowledge is power.

"Well, with the way the two of you are devotedly ignoring each other in class, I figured something was up."

"Clever." I deadpanned. "Very astute."

"They're saying you guys are brothers. Is that true?" He continued with a mocking tone.

It appeared they already knew the truth, so I decided not to corner myself with a lie. "Yeah. We're brothers."

"Dude!" he explained and he briefly cast a glance over his shoulder at the other three. He turned back to me and asked: "That's hilarious."

"Yeah, it never fails to crack me up."

His eyebrows suddenly formed a deep frown. "Are you mocking me?"

"I wouldn't dare," I said dryly.

"I'm being nice to you and you mock me?"

"I know right, what has the world come to?" I wasn't really thinking of self-preservation before I opened my mouth. I have often found that in confrontational situations like these, my intentions start out good, but after a while of having my buttons pushed, the part of my brain in direct control of my mouth just seems to think: how can I fuck this up even more?

"You better watch your attitude, braided boy wonder, or you might get yourself and that little whore of a brother of yours in serious trouble," he warned with a sly grin before walking off, his friends following him, all of them pretending I was completely invisible, walking into me with painful jabs of their shoulder.

I watched them go, confused by all of it, but mostly by what they had called Heero. He didn't exactly resemble my view of a "whore", in those awful, ill-fitting pressed pants and unflattering button-up shirts. As it turned out, the weekend might get interesting after all. I stored the little sneak-peek of information away, planning to put it to good use during the weekend.

Saturday morning came quickly. Even after a sleepless night.

There was a quiet but persistent knock on the door.

"Duo?" Tabytha's voice drifted through.

My reply was nothing more than an incoherent groan.

"Duo, it's past eight o'clock. The stores open at nine," she announced dutifully. She waited by my door for a little while - for what I didn't know - then I heard the clicking of her heels going back down the hallway.

I took my time getting ready, showering leisurely and lazily drying my hair. Mostly because I anticipated it would bug the crap out of Heero, who had proven himself to be a very schedule-bound character. I put on my favorite pair of dark jeans with matching holes over both knees and fading with scuffmarks all over. I didn't buy them like that. Growing up the way I did, with lack of monetary resources, you wore your clothes until you grew out of them. So when I stopped growing, I was stuck with what I had until it was threadbare. I wore a black hoodie and finished with my large, black boots that made my footfalls obnoxiously loud.

I stomped downstairs, greeted halfway by the smell of breakfast: French toast.

My breakfast wasn't the only thing waiting for me in the kitchen. When I rounded the corner I was met with Heero's cold glare that sent shivers down my spine and chased away all the warmth that the nice shower had left me with. He stood with his lower back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed in front of his chest, dressed in the usual: awful beige slacks and white button-up shirt.

'Whore', I remembered. I tried to see it but I couldn't. He looked like a goodie-two-shoes, dressed as if he is (was) going to church, rather than a Home Depot. The only rebellious thing about him was his hair, going every which way, but I didn't think it was an intentional statement.

Heero pointedly looked down at his wristwatch upon my entry.

I grabbed my plate, took a big bite and asked challengingly: "What?" Crumbs shot forth.

Heero looked appalled and turned away, like he couldn't stand looking at me any longer.

Tabytha didn't interfere; she had colorful magazine pictures spread out over the breakfast table. I noticed a lot of flowers and dresses. She was intently focused on them.

I leaned in closer, studying the pictures as I asked: "What's all this for?" I ignored Heero's exasperated sigh at the inevitable, added delay.

"I'm planning a wedding!" she practically squealed. "I don't normally do weddings but this is a very special occasion. It's your aunt's wedding!"

My brows knitted together. I didn't even know I had an aunt. This estranged family kept getting bigger and bigger.

"I mean, it's her third wedding, but it should still be special, right? Besides, three times is a charm! And if not, well, who doesn't like a party?"

I regretted ever showing interest, glowering as she rambled on about and bridesmaids' dresses.

"It's nine o'clock," Heero stated impatiently.

His voice startled me, as I had completely forgotten what he sounded like. It was deep and tense, like a music note ever building towards a violent climax, but always stopping short of that, remaining in that state of tension and aggravation.

"We should already be at the store by now," he continued.

"Heero," Tabytha soothed him, "don't worry so much, you have the entire weekend."

"I have homework."

She quirked a delicate, blond eyebrow at him. "I'm pretty certain your teachers won't give you any trouble for not handing in an assignment three months ahead of the deadline."

He scowled and dryly retorted: "I'm actually only two months ahead on this particular course."

"Well, like I said: no reason to worry. Let Duo finish his breakfast." She turned back to her 'work'.

I looked at Heero with a devilish grin and took a slow bite of the French toast, my hand, my lips and my jaw working in exaggerated slow motion.

He looked away, his jaw clenching and his fingers gripping his upper arms.

Fifteen minutes later I decided I had pushed him far enough. Any further and I might push him off a ledge and find him gripping my ankle and dragging me down with him. I put away my plate and listened to the jingle of car keys as Tabytha handed them to Heero.

"Just be home before noon, okay? Cameron has the Audi and I have an appointment, so I need the SUV."

"I hope we'll be back well before noon," Heero said.

I followed him outside to the SUV and jokingly offered to drive. He didn't grace me with any sort of reaction. I sat down in the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt over my shoulder while curiously looking around. The car still had that new smell to it, dominated by the scent of leather. The car I had gotten used to, driving all around the country, smelled like cheeseburgers and wet dog - which was curious, seeing as we never had a dog.

Heero backed the large vehicle out of the driveway and headed towards our destination.

I quickly became very irritated with his style of driving. Keeping the speed five miles under the speed limit and crossing roads far too cautiously, causing the cars trailing us to honk repeatedly. When we arrived at the Home Depot, he parked far away from the entry and the other cars. I figured he must be worried about damaging his parents' brand new car, but I had no sympathy.

I took a cart and pushed it into the store, looking around, not having a clue where to go. It struck me, with a mild sense of awe, that I had never been in a home depot. I had never had a private room to decorate. Those first few years after Cameron left, when we did rent apartments and stayed in place a little longer, I was too young to be of any major influence. Mom would just show up with the few decorative items she could afford, doing her best to make a bare spare bedroom a suitable child's bedroom.

I was so focused on watching the signs over the aisles that I accidentally pushed the cart into a display.

Heero quickly interfered, taking the cart from me, muttering something about me being a 'blistering simpleton'.

I didn't defend myself. I preferred his insults over the tense silence that had nearly suffocated me during the prolonged drive over. Insults I could handle, especially his. I found them quite amusing in their eloquent delicateness.

I still had no idea what his deal was. I didn't expect a warm welcome, I didn't expect us to become friends or even so much as act as if we remotely resembled two brothers. But the hostility was uncalled for. I would have considered jealousy as a possible explanation, fear that Cameron might like me more as his 'real' son, than Heero. But that was preposterously unrealistic in my opinion. Cameron had made it abundantly clear that my mom and I didn't live up to his expectations when he decided he was done with us, and in comparison with Heero I accepted that I was no ideal son. Heero had nothing to worry about. I would never be two months ahead on my school assignments. I would never win science awards. I would never be a good little conformist.

And I wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit.

"What do you want?" Heero snapped at me.

"Excuse me?"

"What do you want?" He nodded in the direction of the main aisle.

"Oh, just some paint and stuff." I still had to get used to having him actually speak to me and thus acknowledging my existence. Foul and impatient as this acknowledgement may be, I couldn't help but see it as progress. Maybe Cameron, though still hateful, had made a good point. I didn't disagree with him that it would be best if Heero and I could at least co-exist in a civil manner.

Still, each time he addressed me, I had to refrain myself from looking over my shoulder and earnestly wonder if he was actually talking to me.

Heero seemed to be familiar with the lay-out of the store. He led me to the appropriate aisle and idly stood by as I walked along the wall of paint cans, scrutinizing the samples. It wasn't so much a search for what I liked, as a search for what they - Cameron and Tabytha particularly - wouldn't like. Making my room 'homey' was not the same as making my room 'me'. I wanted the sheer color scheme to repel them as much I personally felt. Black was an obvious and easy choice, but I felt like more colors were needed to express my inner anger, so I kept mulling over different dark shades. Red, I decided after some consideration, was too vampy and strangely welcoming in its warmth. I needed something cold, so I walked over to the blues.

I looked back at Heero, feeling a little uneasy as our eyes met. He had on his usual glare, intimidating and frosty. I suddenly wasn't so sure any more if I liked this progress. Being under his cold and examining stare made the rhythm of my heart beat uncomfortably hard and fast. The exotic, cat-eye like shape of his eyes with thick black lashes framed clear, all-seeing orbs. The outer rim of his iris was dark like the sky on a moonless night, but lining his pupil, extending out into the dark blue with sharp, jagged edges, was blue ice, giving the effect of his glare on my skin a frostbite-like quality.

I reached back towards the shelf and picked out a dark blue and light blue that most resembled the two tones of his eyes. The colors weren't nearly as fascinating as paint in a jar, but it would have to do. Heero's glare was the coldest and most unwelcoming thing I could imagine and I hoped the colors would have my room convey the same warning.

I walked the cans over to him and deposited them in the cart. "Like them?"

He shrugged.

"What's your room like?"

"Like none of your business," he bit back viciously.

I raised my hands in surrender. "Let's just go get brushes and sandpaper and stuff."

He promptly turned the cart around and led the way to the adjoining aisle.

I gathered up all the necessary equipment to sand the furniture and paint the furniture and the walls and much to Heero's dismay I announced I wanted to walk through the store to see if there was anything else I wanted. I needed to find a lock for my drawer and for my door. In the appropriate aisle, under Heero's watchful eye, I got what I needed, but I decided to go through the entire store. Cameron did say I could buy whatever I wanted, why not make good use of that?

Heero became increasingly impatient as I took my time strolling through the aisles, him following me rather than the other way around. Eventually, he wondered out loud: "Why do I even need to be here?"

I stopped and looked back at him, shuddering a little - invisibly I hoped - under the intensity of his stare from underneath lowered eyebrows. "Because Cameron said so."

"But why? What did Cameron mean with 'considering what happened'?" he demanded, keeping his effective glare focused on me. "Why do I have to hold the money and drive you around town?"

I noted that he sad Cameron as opposed to 'dad', even though Cameron was more his father than he was mine, but I didn't question it. "Because he figured that if he would give me the money and the car, I would run, considering I have already done so twice. That is what happened."

Heero seemed surprised I gave him an honest answer. He made my heart ache, though I couldn't explain why for the life of me, when he asked: "Why don't you just run away?"

I rolled my eyes. "Like I said, I already did so twice. Yet I still ended up with you guys, didn't I? It didn't work, can't get very far without money." I stepped in more closely, keeping my eyes fixated on him, noticing a change in his expression, like the tables were turning and now he was the one at the receiving end of an ominous glare. "With money, however, I could get far away from here. You wouldn't have to stand me for even one more day."

He strengthened his glare.

"It wouldn't be stealing," I argued, "Cameron said I could buy as much as I want. It would simply be a case of... rerouting funds, based on personal preference."

He looked away and started to push the cart further down the main aisle.

"Why are you acting like you aren't jumping at this opportunity?" I questioned as I followed him with hurried pace.

"I wish I could give you the money," he hissed over his shoulder. He turned around to submit me to the full brunt of his glare. "I really wish I could."

"Then what's stopping you?"

"Cameron will know I gave it to you. I will not suffer the consequences."

"He's not exactly going to miss me. I doubt he'll be very upset." I saw in his eyes that I was not convincing him. "You can just tell them I took it from you. I'll gladly give you a black eye if that will solidify your alibi," I finished with a cheeky grin.

"It's on an ATM card. You wouldn't know the code unless I tell you." He looked away, but added: "Trust me, if I could, I would."

I sighed and watched him walk off.

When he noticed I wasn't following him, he stopped dead in his track and whipped his head back impatiently, his hair flinging waywardly around his angry face. "Aren't we done here?"

"Fine." I trailed him to the checkout counter where I watched him pay for everything with Cameron's ATM card with dull eyes.

The cart rattled as Heero pushed it over the uneven asphalt towards the SUV, parked all the way in the back.

"Why do you call Cameron by his name, rather than calling him 'dad'?" I asked, raising my voice so I could be heard over the noise.

He answered my question with a question of his own: "Why do you?"

Because he is not really my dad.

He opened the trunk and started transferring the supplies from the cart to the SUV. After a few items he turned around and snapped: "Aren't you going to do anything?"

I stepped in and helped him load the remainder of the items and then, at his insistence, pushed the cart back to the store while he waited in the car.

The drive back to the house was as agonizing as the earlier trip had been.

Tabytha came to the front door and greeted us as we got out of the car. "Did you get everything you need?"

I didn't answer her and after an uncomfortably long moment of silent, she awkwardly excused herself and walked back into the house. Heero and I carried the purchases up to the guest room, my room. He promptly retreated to change into a set of old clothes and while he got dressed in his own, very private room, I took the sheets off the bed and hid all my personal affects in the bathroom, out of reach from Heero's calculating eyes.

Heero's old clothes were just a different pair of slacks and a loose fitting T-shirt. Even though he was an insufferable dick, I wouldn't have minded to see him an old, tight pair of jeans. Heero's looks were just about the only enjoyable thing about him, but he seemed hell-bent on ruining his esthetics as much as he could with those hideous clothes.

Because I wanted to paint the furniture, we had to sand them and thus, to avoid getting an excess amount of dust in the room, we had to carry the furniture outside. Luckily it was a sunny day, but not too hot. The bed we dismantled and taken downstairs in pieces. The desk and empty dresser we had to maneuver down the stairs as a whole. It was difficult coordinating with Heero, he was very stubborn and defiant, but we managed and we got the last piece into the driveway just in time to see Tabytha leave.

With her as well as Cameron gone for the remainder of the day, I told Heero he didn't have to help me, that I would rather do it by myself.

He reached for a sanding machine and simply said: "They will know." Then he turned on the machine and started working on the surface of the desk.

I supposed he was right, after all, without his help it would take me twice as long, that kind of slow progress they would surely notice.

I took a piece of sandpaper and pulled out the drawers to start work on those, all the while keeping my eyes on Heero and the stiff, tense motions of his body as he worked.

After an hour my grumbling stomach decided it was time for lunch and without any announcement I dropped my tools, stood up and walked into the house, curious if Heero would follow. I got a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and took a couple of large gulps before I started raiding the cabinets for food. I jumped when I closed a cabinet door and realized Heero had joined me in the kitchen, just staring at me.

"Would you like a grilled cheese sandwich too?" I asked as I made preparations for my own.

"No thanks." He quietly worked on making himself a healthy sandwich with lettuce and tomatoes and low-fat mayonnaise.

"So," I said when I sat down next to him at the breakfast table where he pretended to be reading the newspaper Cameron must have rifled through that morning, "this guy approached me in school this week. Some dumb jock."

"I'm sure you got along well," he noted disinterestedly, keeping his eyes focused on the small black lettering on the recycled paper.

I scoffed. "What about me makes you think I would get along with a jock?" I gestured at myself, certain the black clothes, the earrings and the chains on my belt were unmistakable. I hadn't bothered to change, seeing as all my clothes were old and a bit of paint would not be terribly compromising.

"Oh, I apologize," he said dishonestly, looking up at me with his ice cold eyes, "I was focusing on the 'dumb' part."

That boiled my blood a little, admittedly. I defensively straightened up in my seat and didn't appreciate the victorious, smug look in his eyes. "You think you are so smart."

"So do you," he shot back, "the difference between you and I is that I have school results and IQ-tests to back up my assumption. Whereas you rely on a misguided notion."

"Well, if you are so much smarter than me, maybe you can help me figure something out."

"Four," he said, looking back down at the paper, the financial section. "Two plus two is four."

"Why did that jock call you a whore?"

My question erased the victory from his features. Only momentarily did he look surprised with a hint of offense. His reaction wasn't immediate, he watched me first, for several heartbeats, gauging me, maybe contemplating answering me. He delayed his response further by taking the final bite of his sandwich. With a screech of the legs of the chair over the floor, he stood up. Looking down at me with narrowed eyes he said calmly: "Good luck with your room." Then he walked off and disappeared through the door that led to the garage.

I heard him going up the winding staircase, up to his room.

The curiosity was crippling me, as surely he predicted. I resigned to my fate and continued work on my own. Amazingly, I hoped Cameron would force Heero to me help me the next day. I was eager to have some questions answered. Perhaps if I could figure out this family and reveal its hidden imperfections, I could be more at ease. I could stop feeling worthless, less of a person than they were.

Curiosity may have been said to have killed the cat, but I was no fucking feline. My mom always said, somewhat mysteriously, that she trusted my ability to figure out any truth.

Knowledge is power.


	4. Chapter 4

**Brothers**

**Chapter Four**

Heero turned out to be right. Cameron was very observant and instantly noted, upon viewing my progress, that if Heero had been helping me, the project would be much further along. Before another awkward dinner, he called both his sons - which still sounded so strange to me - to the dinner table, sitting us down across from each other. Heero, as always, was not in a conversing mood, but he didn't come across as hostile as he usually did. Cameron tried to engage us in a therapeutic discussion, encouraging us to share our problems with him or with each other, but we both wisely kept our mouths shut, knowing better than to aggravate the situation. Displeased at our lack of cooperation, Cameron resorted to merely ordering us to finish up work the next day. Both he and Tabytha would be home to monitor us.

Expecting this, even hoping for it a little bit, I quickly resigned and quietly had my dinner. Heero seemed less at ease with the prospect of yet again being forced to spend time with me, using his fork more to push the food around than to bring it to his lips.

When I came downstairs for breakfast that Sunday, Tabytha was her chatty self, still 'working hard' on planning the wedding of the aunt I had no conscious recollection of. She even asked for my opinion on a couple of things and even though it made me feel self-conscious - wondering if maybe she had figured I was the kind of guy to be interested in lifestyle topic because maybe she knew I was gay - I tried not to read too much into it and gave my lighthearted opinion about flowers and music. She didn't agree with any of my suggestions and dismissed all of them, but I supposed it was nice of her to even ask.

Heero and Cameron were both hidden behind their respective newspapers. I couldn't help but suspect that they weren't as enthralled by the daily, international news as they put forth and were merely hiding behind the newspapers, knowing it would divert Tabytha's meaningless conversation elsewhere - to me.

"Hey Heero," I started, noting how alien his name felt on my tongue. "If you're done with it, can I have the sports section?"

There was no response.

I looked at Tabytha, but she just shrugged.

I continued: "The cartoons maybe? Surely you don't read those."

It was clear Heero only graced me with a reaction because he was annoyed by me and eager to shut me up. He placed the newspaper on the table and extracted a double page from it, folding it into a more manageable size and handing it over to me, without so much as looking at me. With a flick of his wrists he straightened out the newspaper in front of his face and from behind it he commented dryly: "Read that, maybe you'll learn something useful."

I flipped the page he had given me open and scowled at the recurring use of the words "stock market", "financial crisis" and "unemployment" and a lot of acronyms like "LULU", "QQQ" and "ZNGA". One meaning even less to me than the other, though I got the general gist of it. "Hm, the financial section, my favorite," I retorted sarcastically.

"Well, my apologies, but this is a serious newspaper, there is nothing for you to color in," Heero bit back.

Cameron's newspaper rustled as he lowered it and he gave Tabytha a look. "I suppose I should just be grateful that the two of you are talking to each other?"

Neither of us said anything.

I stubbornly put the page in front of me and made a halfhearted attempt at reading one of the lethally boring articles whilst making quick work of my fruit yoghurt.

After breakfast, Heero reluctant followed me back to the driveway. The day before I had sanded everything and overnight I had stored the dismantled furniture in the garage and just slept on my mattress on the floor, still better conditions than what I was used to. I could sleep comfortably on the backseat of an old car. I'd done so often enough.

Rain was drizzling down the windows so we spread out the newspapers of that morning on the concrete garage floor and placed the furniture on top. I set Heero to painting the bed frame black and I searched the walls for the tools necessary to apply a lock to the bottom drawer of the desk. Of course, as soon as I set to work on that, I had Heero's undivided attention.

Momentarily he just watched me work, as if the explanation would magically tumble out of me, but I wasn't that much of a blabbering idiot. When he realized I wasn't going to respond to the burning feeling of his gaze on the back of my head, he asked in that deep, demanding voice of his: "What are you doing?"

I looked up from my straightforward task of securing a metal loop to the upper edge of the drawer, to match the one I had attached to the frame of the desk which would both be held together by the sturdy padlock I had purchased. I was annoyed at the fact that there had been no way to do this without him noticing, but I figured I would draw less curiosity by not acting too mysterious about it. "What does it look like, genius?"

Cleverly deducing that my question was rhetorical he didn't answer - good boy! - , he just kept looking at me. His calculating gaze was unnerving but I liked to think that my discomfort didn't show. "Why would you put a lock on that drawer?"

"Why would you put a lock on your bedroom door?" I nodded to the winding staircase leading up to his bedroom.

Heero didn't say anything, after satisfying himself that he had glared at me long enough, he crouched back down next to the bed and picked up the brush with glossy, black paint again, quietly continuing his chore.

Realizing there was no prying a conversation out of him I fished my old, beat-up MP3-player out of the deep pocket of my black cargo pants and put in the ear pieces. Turning up the volume nice and high, I focused on my work, attaching the lock before reaching for a paint brush myself, whilst head bobbing to the beat of the music. I wasn't bothered that I was being rude, Heero wasn't exactly vice-president of the Niceties-club himself. It was probably a good thing to confront the antisocial recluse with how annoying it was to be ignored when you are right there, in the same room.

I didn't exactly expect it to, but my method of reverse psychology seemed to take effect. Every now and then I felt his gaze on me and even occasionally caught him in the act of staring, grinning when he would look away quickly each time, pretending to never have looked at all. Unfortunately for him, even if I hadn't caught him, the slight - barely-there - redness of his face would have still betrayed him.

"Do you like Metallica?" I eventually asked, after expertly ignoring him for at least a couple of hours. I took out only one earpiece, leaving the other blaring The Black Album in my left ear.

He fixed his glare on me, pretending to be annoyed by my interruption of his work. "Excuse me?"

I gestured at my pocket where I kept my MP3-player, the white chord snaking out, dangling back and forth. "Do you like Metallica?"

Confusion mixed in with his frustration. "Never heard of them."

My jaw dropped. "You've never heard of Metallica? You poor child!"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Don't call me that."

"Well, what else am I going to call you other than a newborn when you admit to me you've never heard of Metallica?" I snorted. "Man, you've been wronged if no one ever introduced you to their music."

I frowned deeply. "From what I hear it is just noise. The kind of noise only someone who doesn't have a brain to get scrambled can enjoy."

"Yeah and what kind of music does your Highness listen to?" I bit back, already regretting ever taking my earpiece out.

Heero shrugged and matter-of-factly stated: "I don't listen to music. It's just a waste of time, I have more important things to do."

"Wow." I made a face, I couldn't even begin to fathom how to respond to that, but it was clear that the more we learned about each other - however slowly - the less we discovered to have in common.

Heero turned back to his work and I followed his lead. When we finished painting the furniture, we moved upstairs with the rollers and buckets of paint and started on the walls. I decided three of the four would be black, I appointed Heero to paint the fourth wall the icy blue I had picked out, to contrast sharply with the dresser I had just painted black. While working, I enjoyed my music and, on the other side of the room, Heero seemed to appreciate the quiet, standing on a stepladder and dragging the roller up and down, coating the wall.

Around noon Tabytha walked in through the open door - also freshly painted black - carrying a tray with two plates of food and two tall glasses of lemonade with ice. She stopped in her tracks as he entered the room, barely able to compose her expression as she took in the color scheme. "It's uh... very unique, Duo," she concluded diplomatically. "It fits you."

I didn't bother pointing out that she, or any other resident of this household, didn't have any clue as to what would fit me, seeing as none of them truly knew me. I just politely thanked her for lunch and took a seat in the middle of the room, thankful for the soft carpet.

She placed the tray by me and waited for Heero to join me on the floor, sitting with his legs folded. When she was satisfied with our effort to get closer together she said: "Enjoy your lunch" and then walked off, back downstairs.

Heero stubbornly pulled one of the plates into his lap and took a large bite of the home-made turkey sandwich, washing it down with a gulp of lemonade.

I watched him as he ate, tired of being annoyed and frustrated, I was mostly amused by his determination to avoid eye-contact. His gaze settled on an empty corner in the room and intently focused on that very spot.

"Look, Heero," I started, not even waiting for him to acknowledge me by looking at me before I continued, "they are just going to keep doing this until we get along, or at least make it seem like we are getting along."

Finally, he looked at me, his eyes as cold and dead as always, but one eyebrow slightly raised.

"They are just going to keep making us do stuff together. I think we both agree that we would rather not spend any more time than necessary together, right?"

He nodded curtly.

It was offensive to me that he so immediately and unquestionable agreed with me, but then again, considering the phrasing of my assertion, I hadn't left him much choice. So I mentally filed the emotion under 'stupid' and cross-referenced it with 'useless'. "Can't we just pretend like we are getting closer? To keep them off our backs."

"Fine. What strategy do you propose?" he wondered stoically.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, what do people do when they get closer and start to like each other?"

"I don't know."

"Of course you wouldn't," I retorted dryly, even as I acknowledged a distant empathy for my 'brother'. But it was quickly overwhelmed by the memory of how frustrating he was. "People start talking to each other, showing interest, sharing interests. Sound familiar?"

He just looked pissed off like he always did.

"You know? Talk?" I spoke slowly to antagonize him. "I might say something... and you might be prompted to say something back? Maybe I'll even say something again in response to that?" I looked at him expectantly, observing no change in expression whatsoever.

"Why are you talking to me like I am mentally underdeveloped? I'm not." He informed me.

"I was going for socially undeveloped."

Heero snorted.

"Maybe, once in a while, we should ask each other over dinner how the other's day went. At breakfast we could discuss something in the newspaper. Maybe I could even come up to your room some time-" at his intensified glare I quickly amended: "or you could come up to my room. We could just do our own thing and ignore each other, but at least it will make Cameron and Tabytha think that we are getting along and they will leave us alone."

"The obvious flaw in your method is that in our efforts not to spend time together or interact with each other, we would still end up spending time together and interacting with each other."

"So what? Am I really that fucking repulsive?" I burst. I thought I had long gotten used to be being unwanted, but apparently not enough to be able to just brush it right off when I was - once more - confronted with it.

Heero blinked away the shock in his eyes. "You just said yourself that we agreed we both disliked spending time together," he argued.

"At least this way it will be on our terms, not theirs."

Heero just blinked, unyielding.

"Fine. Have it your way." I rose to my feet and picked up the roller, reaching into my pocket with my free hand and searching around for the MP3 player. "Just don't be surprised if next weekend we'll be washing the cars together, or getting enrolled in needlepoint classes." I put in my music, turning up the volume even more and continued my work, angrily pushing the roller up and down, feeling minute spatters of paint on my face.

Anger, as it turned out, was a good motivator. We both worked quickly and efficiently, not even so much as look at each other. I imagined that if I had been working alongside a friend, or my mother - or a real brother - the chore would have suffered considerable delay because there would be a lot of goofing around. Since Heero and I still seemed adamant to deny each other's existence in our own little universe, we managed to finish everything before dinner. We wordlessly agreed to leave the furniture in the garage for another night, to allow it plenty of time to dry.

Just before dinner was served, as Heero and I were packing up the newspapers we had used to cover the floor and peeled away all the painter's tape that had lined the doorway and window frame, Cameron appeared in what was from then on - without a smidgen of doubt - my room. There was no judgment on his face, I had to admit this disappointed me. I would have loved for him to openly loathe it, giving me the satisfaction of a job well done.

Heero continued cleaning up, ignoring Cameron, probably still pissed off that the man forced us to spend the weekend together. I paused to await any sort of comment.

He looked at me and formed a smile. It was a nice smile, but I couldn't really tell if it was sincere or not. "You boys did a great job."

"Thanks," I retorted flatly, not feeling complimented in the least.

"See what you can achieve if you two just come together and work together?"

I barely managed to swallow back the sarcastic snort that threatened. Although Heero may not be willing to cooperate, I planned on trying out my strategy. "Yeah, we make a good team." I looked at Heero, kneeling on the carpet, diligently folding the sheets of newspaper into a compact and manageable stack.

Cameron's smile brightened, maybe it was sincere after all. Although, as a former lawyer, he must be a legendary liar. "I'm very proud of both of you."

With an imaginary fist I stomped down that sliver of happiness that appreciated a father's approval. Remember, I told myself, this guy is a dick. A terribly polite, well-spoken, good-looking dick... Why would I care about ever making him proud? He has his new son to take care of that.

He told us dinner was ready so we followed him downstairs, where dinner proceeded as usual: uncomfortable and boring.

"Did you two enjoy working together on Duo's room?" Tabytha inquired.

I looked at Heero but he had his gaze fixated on his plate. "It was cool."

"Cool?" She chuckled sheepishly.

"Fine," I amended.

A heavy silence ensued. Tabytha's eyes jumped from me, to Heero and back to me as we both purposefully ignored each other. "Things don't seem to have improved much. Cameron and I had hoped that spending some time together would bring you closer to one another."

"It's a classic team-building exercise," Cameron cut in, "I send my managers on team-building retreats each year. Building things together, completing tasks together, forms a bond." He looked at us expectantly, hoping to see the effects of the "team-building". His sighed as both his "sons" played with their food. "Friendship is like a muscle, my father always used to say," he continued matter-of-factly, picking up a piece of meat with his fork, "if you exercise it, it gets stronger. If you don't, it withers away. Seems in this case more exercise is in order." He wrapped his smirking lips around his fork and chewed his medium-rare meat.

Exactly as I had predicted. I looked at Heero meaningfully, catching the end of his stare as he had been looking at me, probably in surprise at the accuracy of my predictions.

After dinner I went upstairs to my room. The smell of paint was overwhelming, so I flung the window open to air out the space, or else I'd end up with the mother of headaches. I lay down on my mattress on the floor and opened up the laptop Cameron and Tabytha had generously given me. I aimlessly searched the web, finding mild amusement in a set of YouTube videos as I skipped from one to another. I lost myself in the meaningless activity.

A little past midnight, there was a soft knock on my door. Through it came Cameron's muffled, but stern voice: "Don't you think it's time you went to sleep? It's a school-day tomorrow - today, actually."

I frowned, wondering how he had even known I was still awake, all the lights were off. Surely the glow of the laptop's screen wasn't bright enough to be seen through the crevices between the door and the doorframe? Too tired to further question the matter or get into a discussion with him, I replied: "Okay." As I changed I heard his footsteps move down the hall and then the door to the master bedroom closed.

In the breeze of the cool night's air, I slept relatively soundly, but there was an anxiety and nervousness in my stomach when I woke up. Monday. School, including physics the last period, my favorite class, getting frostbitten sitting too close to Heero and his ice cold demeanor.

We had another typical breakfast of Tabytha being superficial and Cameron and Heero ignoring today's world as the news of yesterday was much more pertinent.

"You look nice today, Duo," Tabytha commented out of the blue.

I was wearing a ripped pair of jeans and a cheap sweater she had already seen, so I assumed she was referring to my hair, that I had in a ponytail as opposed to the usual braid. I thought I saw a shimmer of cobalt peeking over the top of the newspaper, but when I turned my head to look, all I was met with was the headline and the back page with personal ads, so it may have been my imagination. "Thanks."

"You have very pretty hair. How long has it been since you last cut it?"

I shrugged. "I don't remember."

She just smiled. "It's nice." Then she made a mistake by noting: "It looks like your mothers. I saw a picture of her, she had beautiful long hair too."

Her comment knocked the wind out of me and my heart contracted painfully. My face went pale at the mere mention of her, emotions that I had been suppressing caught me off guard and flooded me. She must have noticed, she apologized for bringing up bad memories. I corrected: "Good memories, actually. But that doesn't make them easier to remember."

Her sad smile was a novel show of kindness and understanding. Then all of a sudden her attitude went perky again and she announced gleefully: "I made you boys delicious sandwiches and fresh squeezed orange juice to take to school."

"Great, thanks," I replied dryly, confused by the sudden shift. For a moment there, I started to like her, but now I wondered if that had been too lenient and premature. She seemed to have no ill intentions, but she seemed fake, even though somewhere underneath her tanned skin, there might be something real and likable. That confused me.

With my delicious sandwich and fresh squeezed orange juice I was off to school. Between classes in the corridors I spotted the guy who had approached me the week before and had described Heero as a "whore", renewing my curiosity. In all honesty, I didn't think of much else throughout the day. The possibility of something scandalous was simply irresistible. Above all, however unpleasant Heero could be - and he was excellent at it - he was also a delectable enigma and his secrecy only left me feeling challenged. Surely the family that I had more or less rolled into wasn't truly as perfect as it appeared on the surface. I was eager to uncover the imperfections. I didn't hope the rude boy was justified in calling Heero a whore, but shamefully I did have to admit that I hoped to find something sinfully interesting. Bring him down to my level. Then, maybe, he could treat me as an equal, rather than looking down on me, like a bug, one that needs to be stepped on.

Physics, the final period of the Monday school day. I attempted interaction with a lighthearted greeting but he blatantly ignored me, pretending to be blind and deaf. He left me no other option: I poked him in his side.

The brief, sudden touch caused him to flinch, almost violently, launching him out of his seat.

Heads turned and eyes fixated on him. He glared them all into submission and soon they uncomfortably looked away.

"Why did you do that?" He hissed demandingly as the class started.

"Just checking to see if you were still alive. You are." I smirked at him.

"Thank you for that vital information," he deadpanned, then dutifully returned to the task of ignoring me at expert level.

Following a mind-numbing class, the teacher turned his back to the blackboard to face us with a most unwelcome announcement as far as Heero and I were concerned.

He started handing out pieces of paper, one to every set of lab partners and he explained: "Your next homework assignment will be a paper on mechanics, forces and motion. Based on last-year's feedback, when students had trouble coming up with a specific topic on their own, I've composed a list of topic suggestions. As you can all see, there is plenty to choose from. Of course you are free to come up with your own topic, but if you do, please check it with me. I want you to team up and together write a comprehensive paper on your topic of choice. You must consult at least five literary sources: textbooks, articles or presentations of experts in the field. The entry to the school's library is at the side of the building, in case you didn't know. I'm aware quite a few of you have never stepped foot in there... Now from what I've gathered you have quite a substantial English literature assignment, so I will set the deadline three weeks from today, I trust that will be sufficient."

I was startled as Heero abruptly shot his hand in the air.

"Mister Maxwell?"

"Why is it necessary to complete this assignment in pairs? It seems straightforward enough."

I watched many students roll their eyes at him and the teacher seemed to have to suppress the same urge.

"Mister Maxwell," he started impatiently, "creating a strong, foundation of academic knowledge is not the sole purpose of your high school career, another important teaching that you should take with you upon graduation are what I like to call "life's lessons", one of them, if not the most important one, being: how to successfully cooperate with others. This will be a skill you will have to develop, as your future will heavily depend on it. I have no doubt you can write a brilliant paper on friction, angular acceleration, or driven oscillations. I do, however, question your ability to work alongside someone. Don't you think this will be the opportune moment to prove me wrong and establish yourself, well and truly, as my most accomplished student?"

Wow, I thought, this guy had Heero wrapped around his little finger at that point.

A wide-eyed Heero agreed after a lengthy silence: "Yes, sir."

"What a fucking loser," a student whispered.

I followed the sound and my eyes landed on a broadly built young guy just in time to see him imitate a blowjob by pumping his fist back and forth in front of his mouth and pressing his tongue into his cheek simultaneously. The guy in front of him laughed, but quieted down under the stare of the teacher.

The old man moved back to the front of the class and finished: "I want you to use the remaining fifteen minutes of this class to decide on a topic, just encircle one on the sheet I have given you, or write it down if you had a different topic in mind and sign it with both your names and hand it in at the sound of the bell."

The classroom erupted into indiscriminate conversation as pairs discussed their options.

I turned to Heero apprehensively. "So uh..." I pushed the sheet that had been lying in between us, towards him. "Which topic do you like?"

He didn't respond.

"Great, so were back to this? I might regret saying this, but I like you better when you are insulting me."

"The topic is irrelevant," he bit, "anything is fine, it's an easy assignment."

"Well, for you, the physics isn't really the challenge though, is it? It's the teamwork. Don't you want to improve on yourself?" I winked at him.

No response. Whatsoever.

"Fine, be like that," I said with a sigh. "Then were just going to do it my way and I must warn you, it's not very scientific. A cerebral guy like yourself surely wouldn't appreciate it..." I warned him, expecting him to react.

Nothing happened. He might not even have been breathing at that point.

I pulled the paper back in front of me and grabbed my pen. With my other hand I covered my eyes, so I could see pen nor paper. What I could see was Heero, from the corner of my eye, finally looking at me with poorly hidden curiosity. It made me smile inwardly. Even though I still hated his guts, of course. I moved my hand back and forth above the desk and decisively brought it down, the point of the pen landing on the piece of paper, leaving a blue mark on one of the topics. I uncovered my eyes and looked down.

"Ha! Kepler's Laws it is. I have no idea what that is." I looked at him with a cheeky grin.

Heero's expression was blank and his voice flat as he concluded: "You are truly, devotedly, excessively idiotic."

"Well, at least Cameron got what he wanted. We're already getting to know each other better," I responded glibly. I circled the topic and then wrote down our names at the bottom. It was strange to look down at the two different names with the same last name, it really had yet to fully sink in that he was my brother, technically. "So, do you wanna meet at your place or mine?" I absentmindedly joked as I started to doodle on the sheet. We had time to spare anyway. "Looks like we'll be spending time together after all, bro."

I could see the physical strain as he undoubtedly had to stop himself from hitting me at that point.

"Let's not be inefficient," he started, "it will be easier for me to do this assignment on my own and you don't want to do this at all, you don't even know anything about it. I will write the paper myself and for fifty percent of it I will dumb myself down to the best of my abilities to make your participation in the finished product plausible. That way we won't have to spend any time together and you'll get the best grade you'll ever get. That will be most beneficial to both of us."

"I'm not a cheat."

"And I'm not your 'bro'," he snapped.

With a sigh I caved. I didn't want to be a cheat, but at the same time I wasn't exactly invested in my academic accomplishments - having had none in the past. On top of that, if Heero was that venomously adamant to avoid me, I might as well protect my own ego by relenting.

I handed in the sheet at the end of the class. All the other students had already left in a hurry, Heero being the first. The teacher looked up at me.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," I retorted unenthusiastically and strolled out.

I took my time making my way back to the picture-perfect house, taking a detour to explore more of my surroundings, much like a captive, wild animal exploring it's pen. Every cookie-cutter house reminded me how much my mother would have hated this place, it seemed strange to me that she ever lived that life and was happy with it. Cameron abandoning us must have changed her. Maybe it made her concept of 'family' and 'home' more fluid. They had to be, otherwise she would have found no happiness, assuming that she did. I stopped in front of the house. Cameron's house. She had never wanted for me to go back here. Things had a way of not turning out the way mom would have wanted. I assumed she had never planned for, or desired to be abandoned by her husband and to take care of their young son by herself, the same way I don't suppose dying of a brain tumor was what she had in mind.

With a surrendering sigh, I went inside.

Cameron greeted me from his office, then he looked down at his watch and pointed out: "You're late."

"Late for what?"

"Just late. Didn't your last class end at four?"

I shrugged.

He got up from his chair and walked up to me. "I decided to come home early today, so I could help you carry all the furniture back into your room, seeing as Heero won't be home until dinner."

"Oh, okay."

"Don't you think a "thank you" is in order?" He pressed.

I felt uncomfortable under his stare, it felt threatening. Hesitantly, I offered: "Thank you."

His face broke into an unexpected smile. "You're welcome. Now lets get to it."

Cameron helped me carry all the pieces of furniture back to my room, showing off his strength as he wielded some very heavy pieces all by himself and easily maneuvered up the curving steps. Once everything was in my room, he helped me put everything back together, not once making a negative, judgmental comment about the gloomy decor I had created.

"Do you like your laptop?" He asked as he picked the machine up from the floor and placed it on the newly black surface of the desk.

"Yeah, it's great..."

"Good. I figured a guy your age would like a gift like that."

There were many gifts that would have made me much happier, but being absent the more character-forming years of my life, he had no idea who I was and what kind of gift would truly be befitting for me. I made no scathing remark, since he had, so far, spared me the same.

He excused himself when the front door opened and high heels clicked on the hardwood floor as Tabytha stepped inside. From just outside my room, I listened to them exchange greetings, quite formally.

"You're home early," the conversation continued from Tabytha's end.

"I came home early to help Duo with moving the furniture back into his room."

I didn't hear Tabytha respond. After a pause the sound of her heels returned and quickly became distant and muted as she walked into the kitchen, probably to get dinner ready. Maybe they had shared a look, maybe Tabytha thought Cameron should have waited for Heero to come home and help. I didn't really know what was going on and I didn't particularly care. I closed the door to my bedroom and seated myself at the desk, pushing open the screen of the laptop.

I surfed to the high school website and clicked from one link to the other till the page loaded the mathletes championship photo.

I gazed at Heero's face. Indifferent, uninviting, yet unknowingly beautiful. I found it hard to marry this image with the word "whore", or the insulting gesture that the student had made today in class.

Curiosity always took hold of me in the most relentless way. I guess, being quite people-deprived growing up, I liked to imagine myself as some sort of detective. It's not like we didn't meet any people, but we never stayed with them for any extended period of time. I didn't have time to get to know people well, we would move before I would get the chance to. My mother always compared our method of meeting new people - and possibly making friends - as constant speed-dating. Get to know as much about them as possible in the admittedly limited timeframe, see if you are compatible and make an equally hasty decision based on that.

It was difficult to shake that habit; that need to get to know everything about someone as quickly as possible; unearth even their best-kept secrets, like it's a contest and you're going for gold.

To have this family resist me, when they were arguably the most important people to get to know about, was infuriating to say the least. Especially Heero. To make matters worse was that he had to be such a snotty brat about it.

Mysterious snotty brat.

Mysterious snotty brat with a killer ass.

Mysterious snotty brat with a killer ass who is my brother.

I shut down the laptop, anticipating to be called downstairs for dinner any moment. "This is so fucked up," I grumbled as I watched the image of Heero fade to black.

As expected, I didn't have to wait long until Tabytha called to announce dinner was ready.

I took my usual seat at the table. Heero came through the kitchen door, that lead to the garage and the stairway to his room, freshly showered. He ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking out a few remaining droplets and then brushed his bangs back, opening up his face. The hairs would quickly fall back into place as he seated himself across from me and dutifully looked down at his plate, avoiding eye-contact with everybody.

When Tabytha had finished her play-by-play of her day - a lot of talk about nothing - Cameron looked at me and Heero and started: "I've been wondering how I can get you two to spend more time together..."

Heero jaw stilled mid-chew.

I knew it, I knew it, I thought to myself. In the silence that followed my mind run amuck. He's going to handcuff us together, blindfold us, drive us miles into dense forest and then dump us in the dead of knight with just a map and a single match.

An unexpected voice broke the silence.

I looked up in surprise, only to be more shocked to find Heero looking directly at me as he spoke.

"Duo and I are actually going to be busy working on a Physics assignment together."

I blinked at the turn of events.

Cameron looked pleased and turned to me for confirmation. "Really?"

I nodded, momentarily dumbfounded in the face of the unexpected.

"Well, you should consider yourself lucky, Heero always gets excellent marks for Physics." He looked at Heero and inquired: "Have you come up with a subject yet?"

Heero nodded in my direction. "Duo picked the topic, Kepler's Laws of Planetary Motion."

"That is a very interesting subject," he looked at me again, "and it's good to hear you two are already cooperating. This is very good."

"Uh... yeah..."

Heero gave me a get-yourself-together-and-play-along look.

"Yeah, it's great," I continued awkwardly, "I'm really excited to get started, you know, space and stuff is really cool..."

Heero glared at me, but I just grinned in return.

This was going to be interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Brothers**

**Chapter Five**

"Sooo..." I trailed off, staring at him quizzically.

At his prompt knock on my bedroom door I had welcomed him inside, watching as he carried his laptop and a stack of books directly to my desk and sitting down without even acknowledging me. I had been standing in the middle of the room for a good minute, staring at his back. I didn't know what I had expected, I just knew this was weird. And rude.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, approaching him. I looked over his shoulder at his laptop screen and the books he had neatly organized on the surface of the desk. It was clear he was going to work on our physics assignment and even though it wasn't conform the rules we had previously agreed upon, I really wanted to help. I hated feeling useless and like I was taking advantage of someone. Moreover, I wanted Heero to know that if he would just give me a chance, he would find that I'm not as stupid as he had me pegged.

"I want you to be quiet," he grumbled and started leafing through a particular book, landing on a chapter entitled "Planetary Motion" in which "Kepler's laws" seemed to be the dominating term.

I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed a book of the desk.

"Please don't touch my things." He looked up at me with narrowed, offended eyes.

"Look, let's get this straight and avoid discussion in the future. The moment you plunked your ass down in my chair and placed your shit on my desk, I was granted the right to touch whatever I want." Well, maybe not whatever, I thought to myself, averting my eyes from his intense yet ridiculously attractive face.

"It's not even your chair, or your desk," Heero snapped venomously.

I sighed, ignoring the sharp pain in my chest as he stabbed at my heart with his words. Way to make me feel welcome, brother. "This isn't going to work."

"We're stuck together now, so we'd better make it work." He glared up at me.

"Then let me help." I started leafing through the randomly selected book, having no idea what page to go to.

"No," he growled firmly.

We stared each other down but in the end I had to admit defeat. I dropped the book back down on the desk with a loud bang and threw myself onto the bed where my own laptop had been waiting for me. Secretly I would just google Kepler's Laws. Surely Wikipedia had some intel on that stuff. If I could just get myself acquainted with the subject, I might be able to impress him enough to let me work with him. Because I really didn't want him to write this report on his own and then have to suffer his arrogant gloat when he would ace it.

"What are you doing?" He demanded when he saw me take my laptop into my seat.

"Surfing for porn, duh." I stuck my tongue out at him. Very mature, Duo, very mature, I appreciated sarcastically. "Just mind your own business."

"You can't go to porn websites when we are supposed to be working on our assignment."

I couldn't believe that he actually took the porn-comment seriously, but it sure as hell amused me that he did. "Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?" I stared at the screen pointedly and groaned: "Ohhh, yeah, that's hot."

He didn't know that I was still staring at my desktop wallpaper, so at my remark his face went red. With anger or with embarrassment, I couldn't really tell which, but it was funny regardless. He jumped out of his seat and stared at me incredulously.

"Relax," I said and turned my laptop around to show him there was no reason to get all fussy.

"It doesn't matter," he replied, his face cooling down, "you can't surf the web for whatever idiotic entertainment that you would like to waste your time with. He will see."

I frowned. "He, as in He?" I pointed a finger up at the ceiling.

"What?"

"God." I clarified.

Heero snorted. "Of course not. Don't you know anything?"

"You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?" I quipped.

"When you go online, Cameron can see your activities," he informed me dryly.

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed, more than a little perturbed at this revelation. I was about to accuse him of lying, trying to mess with my head, when I remembered that night when Cameron came to my door and told me it was too late to be on the internet. I didn't give it much thought at the time, but it seemed to back up Heero's words. How else could Cameron have known that I had been online?

"It's a parental control thing."

"Uh... No! It's a gross invasion of my privacy! This is isn't parental control, this is spying!" I stared at my laptop in betrayal. This birthday gift had suddenly turned into a curse, a mere tool for him to keep his eyes on me and aim to control me. How fucking sick was this? "So, like, how does this work? I start up the internet and then what?"

"He has a program that monitors your internet activity. It logs every website you visit, he can even see what you are doing in real time." He seemed a little smug, probably thought me stupid for not having known this, since I wasn't the computer genius he was.

"This is crazy!" My mind raced as I revisited each website I had accessed. Luckily I hadn't felt at ease enough to visit any 'suspicious' websites but I did wonder what he would think knowing that I spent an inappropriate amount of time looking at Heero's mathlete picture on the school's website. I suddenly felt sick.

"I could fix it, if you want," he announced matter-of-factly.

"Fix it? You know how to fix it?"

He shrugged. "Of course, I did it for my own laptop a long time ago."

"Wait, he was spying on you as well?" What kind of sick, distrusting bastard was this man who fathered me?

"Yeah."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"No. Because I fixed it." he rolled his eyes on me and sat back down at the desk. From his laptop bag he produced a USB drive and inserted it into his laptop, quickly loading a file onto it. He walked back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Give me your laptop," he ordered.

Under different circumstances I would have argued with his tone, but since he was doing me a favor, I wisely kept my mouth shut and handed over my laptop. I crawled over to him to look over his shoulder.

He propped the machine on his lap and loaded the file from the USB drive. A program instantly booted up. The screen went black and infinite lines of grey-lettered code scrolled by. Heero's fingers hammered down on the keys, his gaze focused and pensive.

"So... what? This program shuts him out?" I wondered, amazed he was able to keep up with the speed of the code as it kept on rolling across the screen, making me feel dizzy and appropriately inadequate.

"Of course not, a lack of internet activity would be too suspicious," he answered.

I waited for him to elaborate and rolled my eyes when he didn't. "So what does it do?" I insisted.

He sighed impatiently, but explained nonetheless: "First, this program loads a database onto your computer. It's a database of websites that you are likely to visit - I'm making some adjustments since my preferences obviously differ from yours."

"Please don't fill it with porn sites."

"I won't," he grunted. "The second thing the program does is hide your actual internet activity. Thirdly, and finally, when Cameron tries to access your internet activity, the program will pick a random site from the database, with some sites having slightly larger odds of being picked - I wrote the algorithm myself - and the program present this website as the website you are currently on. That way, he can't see what you are actually doing. When he tries to view your internet history, the program composes a list of websites, including dates and time spent on the site. It uses only the times when you were actually online, otherwise it might show that you visited a site at a time when you weren't even here."

I noticed the pride in his voice and made me warm up to him. He was clearly passionate about programming and even though it was a hobby I would never understand, it was a hobby no less and it made him seem more three-dimensional to me, rather than just a hot yet rude asshole. "I've never heard you talk this much at once," I noted.

"Well... don't get used to it."

"Too bad," I commented sincerely.

He took out the USB drive and handed me back my laptop. "Here, finished."

"Thanks. So I can surf for porn now?"

He scoffed and got up off the bed, not even dignifying me with a response. He sat back down at the desk and resumed his work on our assignment.

I scooted further up the bed and leaned against the headboard, my laptop in my lap. I was still disturbed by the knowledge that Cameron had this desire to spy on his sons and I wondered what that was all about. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't come up with any good justification for why he would take 'parental control' to such an extreme level and it made me feel uncomfortable. Quite frankly, it made me feel creeped out. I looked around the room suspiciously. "Say, Heero, there aren't any bugs or hidden cameras, right?"

"No. Not in my room at least. I checked."

Yeah, definitely creeped out. I distracted myself by booting up the internet and starting my search on Kepler's laws. Though I couldn't deny often peeling my eyes away from the screen to look at Heero, hunched over my desk, staring at his laptop or the pages of a textbook with an intense expression. He didn't have to help me. He could have just told me of Cameron's spying and leave it at that. But he did help me. My lips formed a smile, but I looked away and molded my face into a thoughtful frown when Heero suddenly cast a glance over his shoulder.

He wasn't all that bad, I realized. Even though he was trying very hard to be severe and aloof, I wasn't buying it.

We stayed in my room working on the school assignment - me secretly - until we were called downstairs for dinner.

Cameron inquired enthusiastically about the project, not aware that however uncomfortable I was around him before, things had taken a turn for the worse since I knew he had been spying on me through my laptop. But I fake-smiled my way through and answered all his questions, even getting into a little detail regarding the topic, making Heero look up, as I was supposed to know nothing about Kepler's laws of planetary motion.

"I am very happy to hear you two are able to work together," Cameron commented, looking at both of us. "I really hope that one day you two will consider each other as brothers."

I nodded even though I didn't believe I ever would. Not with the way I had been thinking about Heero lately. As a - like I said - hot but rude asshole. The whole potential of brotherly love is ruined once you've looked down your "brother's" ill-fitting blouse and had a dream about him in tight jeans.

I didn't really seem the harm in it. I never expected us to be like brothers, there was too little common history and not even blood to bind us. It only felt a little weird when other people referred to us as brothers, as it reminded me that, on paper, some of the thoughts I had been having were highly unethical. It did, however, make me wonder what it would have been like to have had an actual brother.

After dinner I went back upstairs and dug out the photo album my mother had left me and started leafing through the pages where I had left off. I never felt like I needed a sibling, my mother always made sure that in spite of our few possessions and nomadic existence, I was always content. I could only hope that I had been enough for her. That she never felt like something had been missing from her life. Aside from a husband, of course.

I skipped back to an old picture of her, I wasn't in it, I was the one who had taken it. The picture was blurry but her beauty shined through clearly. She was sitting on a park bench, the background was dominated by a tall Ferris wheel and a colorful merry-go-round. She was smiling so brilliantly, her long chestnut braid draped over her shoulder, the end resting on her thigh. In her arms she held my teddy bear - I had given it to her because I didn't want her to be alone in the picture - her long, gentle fingers petting his soft fur.

Before I had taken the picture, I had said to her: "Say cheese, mommy."

She had replied: "I will smile for you, if you tell me you love me."

"I love you."

And then she had smiled the most beautiful smile - one of those smiles that makes you feel special, and makes you realize how special the other person is - and I snapped the picture.

How could anyone leave a woman like that?

But maybe it was for the best. If Cameron was the kind of father that doesn't trust his own children to the extent that he spies on them, maybe they weren't a good match anyway. Because my mother always trusted me and loved me unconditionally.

It's just a shame that she never got to know that it was probably better this way. In his absence she had grown to resent him. It seemed like she hated, maybe even feared him. She had probably never suspected that he could break her heart like that and just leave us one day. On her deathbed she had told me not to let them - the social workers - take me back to him. She told me to run and gave me a bundle of money that she knew wouldn't last long, but hoped it would be enough anyway.

At that memory, the guilt of being there, in his house, was almost unbearable. She didn't want me to be here. Probably didn't want Cameron to get a second chance after what he had done to us.

I tucked the photo album away in the drawer, securely locking it. I hadn't been very mindful of where I left the key, but now that I knew Cameron might be the type to go snooping - like father like son, I supposed, it just wasn't fun when you were on the receiving end of it - I felt the need to hide it, to protect this precious keepsake of my life from his prying eyes. Eyes that had no right to see. I ripped a piece of tape from the dispenser, figuring the key would be safest taped underneath or behind something and I looked around the room.

The space underneath the newly black dresser was just high enough for me to fit my hand underneath. I reached as far as I could, until my arm threatened to get caught between the carpet and the wood and then I taped the key to the underside, scratching my nails over the tape to make sure it would hold.

It was crazy that I would have to take these measures. But I didn't want him to come into my life uninvited. I wasn't comfortable with that. I liked being able to keep him at arm's length, it just felt safer that way. I preferred to get to know a little bit more about him before I could trust him to know anything about me.

If he wanted a fair chance to get to know me, he had better odds inventing a time machine, to go back and not leave my mom and me all those years ago.

We may be in his house, but we were doing this father-son-reacquainting thing on my terms.

The next day was another school day. After enjoying fifty minutes of my lab partners undivided attention, a pretty girl with long, raven black hair - what I really enjoyed were the jealous stares that the hot, popular guys were giving me - I casually strolled through the halls, trying to remember which locker was mine. They shouldn't make the halls so similar and the numbers above the lockers so damn small.

I rounded a corner and suspected I had found myself in the correct hall. It looked familiar enough. I didn't have to search for the specific locker, I had a pretty strong inkling which one it was.

The one Heero was leaning against. Waiting for me.

He looked dutifully chagrin when he spotted me walking up to him.

"You know where to find my locker better than I do."

"That is because you are stupid," he stated dryly.

I opened up my locker to get my books for next period. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked sarcastically.

"I need you to go to the library after school and get a book. I'm stuck at a mathlete contest all afternoon." He pushed a piece of paper into my face.

I folded it open and frowned at the scientific title and very detailed descriptions of where I would find it. I turned it over and joked: "No map?"

"Would you just go get it? We need it for our physics paper."

"We?" I leaned against the wall of lockers and grinned at him. "Our?"

"Well, if you're desperate enough to help to quote wikipedia articles over dinner," he paused to shake his head disapprovingly, "I might as well put you to use."

I smiled at him. My strategy had worked quicker than I had expected it too. Who's the genius now?

"Read the chapter on Brahe. There was nothing on him in my books and since Kepler based his model on Brahe's data, I think we should include him."

"Wasn't there a word limit, or something?" I muttered.

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "No."

"Fantastic..." I deadpanned.

"Look, you either want to help, or you don't. No half-assed stuff."

"Relax, I'll find the book, I'll read the chapter, I'll write a limerick on planetary motion and do a little dance routine. Whatever you want. Wow," I finished. It was clear from his decidedly deadly glare that he did not find my dry humor amusing. "I really want to help, I do."

"I'm going to regret this," Heero remarked and then he walked away, shaking his head.

I watched him go, snorting to myself.

"Making friends?"

I jumped at the sudden voice behind me. "Jesus!" I exclaimed. I turned around and was met by the same quartet of buffed-up jocks as before. Did these guys make a habit of popping up like that? "Ease a guy into it with a cough or something, count Dracula. Materializing out of nothing like that..."

He put his hands on his hips defiantly and informed me: "My name is Brody? We've met before."

He didn't exactly introduce himself to me at the time, but overtime I had heard his name pop up frequently in hallway chatter. "Well, I didn't actually mistake you for a Transylvanian vampire. Brody."

"You're being funny again, funny guy?"

"I don't know. Honestly, it's hard to tell without the laugh-track."

He stared at me angrily and his friends copied his demeanor.

"Uhm, might I remind you: you approached me. What do you want?"

"Just keeping you on your toes, other Maxwell." He walked past me with a challenging look, his shoulder brushing against mine.

The big, popular boys had had an intimidating effect on me before, but as time went by they proved to be nothing more than a comic mockery of a threat. I called after him: "Consider me en pointe."

"Look at the funny man, being funny in French," the last of the minions deadpanned as he walked past me. "Faggot." He cackled at his own unimaginative insult.

"Aww, you say that like it's a bad thing."

The four turned around in unison, each with his own variation of the expression baffled. "Standing up for that little cocksucker of a brother of your, other Maxwell?" Brody asked.

That pissed me off without any particular reason. "Standing up for myself."

"Holy shit!" Brody started laughing uncontrollably, doubling over. "You're a fairy too? Well, then you two must be related."

The others followed in laughter.

Without hesitation I corrected him, even though my palms were sweaty at that point. "I'm not a fairy. I'm gay."

"You say tomato-"

"I say: fuck you," I interrupted him.

Brody scoffed and gave me a foul look. "At least you have something in common with your brother. Come on guys, we're already late for class."

I watched them walk off. It wasn't the first time someone had confronted me about my sexuality. People had their bias at the ready at the sight of my braid, having their prejudice reinforced only made them all the more insufferable. I had learned not to let their ignorant social commentary get to me. What did get to me was the new accusation towards my 'brother'. These assholes were revealing more about him than he did himself. Despite the 'whore' remark and the blow-job gesture, I hadn't dared to think that any of it actually meant Heero was gay, but at the very least there had to be something that fuelled these rumors.

I finished my classes and then had detention at the end of the day for showing up late for one of them. I didn't bother mentioning that it had been Brody's fault. After detention I went to the library and with the help of Heero's instruction I easily found the book, tucked away on a lower shelf all the way in the back.

"Hello?" I called as I stepped through the front door into the foyer.

"Hi, darling! I'm in the kitchen!"

I raised my eyebrows and followed Tabytha's voice into the kitchen.

She yelped as she looked up from a gathering of folders and spotted me in the door opening. "Oh, you sound so much like your father. I thought Cameron was home." She looked down at her watch. "Honey, why are you so late?"

"Had to pick up a book at the school's library, for the Physics paper Heero and I are writing."

"Oh." She looked at her watch again. "Had trouble finding the book?" She asked with a smile.

I scratched the back of my head sheepishly and lied: "Yeah." I sat down at the breakfast table and wondered: "What's all this?"

"Oh, I'm deciding on a caterer for your aunt's wedding. I wanted to use the same one as last time, but she thought that would be tacky and on second thought I totally agree. You know, third wedding and all, you have to be careful with that sort of thing."

"Hm," I replied vaguely, having no idea about weddings.

"Which one appeals to you?" She pushed some folders my way.

I knew that whatever I was going to say, she wouldn't heed my advice anyway, so I didn't bother paying much attention to the folders. "I'm really not the right guy to ask. Pizza menu's appeal most to me, so..."

"Oh," she responded awkwardly, not knowing what else to say to the guy with the poor upbringing who was raised on take-out meals.

"When does Heero come home?" I inquired. I had to admit I was quite excited about confronting him with the new piece of information that had been revealed to me, hoping to get a meaningful reaction out of him this time around.

"Not until dinner. He's at some sort of contest," she waved her hand dismissively, clearly not caring too much about the activities of her son.

Not invested in the least in the decision between caterers I excused myself and headed upstairs. I had some reading to do after all.

I struggled through the dull material on Brahe that Heero had instructed me to read and I made notes because I sure as hell wasn't going to give him the opportunity to accuse me of not doing a good enough job. For the first time since I had arrived, dinner was a welcome relief.

"Where's Heero?" I instantly wondered when I sauntered into the dining room and noticed his unoccupied chair.

"The contest ran long. Apparently they ended in a tie, so now it is up to a sudden death round to decide the winner," Cameron answered and then looked up at me with a smile as I sat down at the table. "Wondering where he is? Do I dare take this as a positive sign?"

I shrugged. "I just wanted to know because we were going to work on our paper tonight. If the contest takes too long and he's too tired, I just wasted my afternoon."

"Heero is never too tired for schoolwork," Cameron stated argumentatively.

"Oh... okay." As soon as he looked away, I made a face. Chill out man, I thought, taking a quiet sip of my Italian potato and tomato soup.

Ten minutes into Tabytha's rambling about the wedding and Cameron quietly eating his soup - probably not even paying attention to her - the door to the garage opened and Heero walked over from the kitchen.

I grinned up at him. "Hey, buddy, is it raining outside?"

Heero glared at me through his bangs, plastered to his forehead. Water steadily dripped on the hardwood floor from his soaked clothing.

"Heero!" Tabytha shot up and ushered him back to the garage door. "Don't drip on the floors, we just had them done two months ago! You go warm up and take a shower and I'll reheat a nice bowl of soup for you."

I chuckled at the scene of Heero awkwardly moving through the rooms, restrained by his heavy, wet clothing.

Without looking up from his soup, Cameron asked: "Do you think that's funny?"

I shut my mouth and looked at him, but he didn't even dignify me by looking up from his dinner. After a few more spoonfuls of soup he noted: "I think it's inappropriate to laugh at that. I thought you too were getting along."

I blinked, confused by the seriousness of his tone. He made it sound like I had laughed at Heero on his deathbed. "Well, friends laugh at each other." I thought of one even better and pointed out: "Brothers laugh at each other," stressing the first word.

He finally looked at me. His gaze was chilling. "What if he got sick and got behind on his schoolwork?"

I dumbly argued: "Heero is a minimum of two weeks ahead in each class. I doubt a common cold will incapacitate him for that long."

"I don't appreciate you talking back to me like that." Without further ado he turned his attention back to his soup, like he hadn't just been an unreasonable, stuck-up prick.

I watched him eat for a minute or two, completely baffled. What was the matter with him? I didn't have to think long. Of course he couldn't have the disappointing son make a mockery of the adopted boy wonder. That would just be unheard of.

Heero joined us at the dinner table with his bowl of soup just as we started in on desert. Cameron inquired about the contest and of course Heero could smugly report they had won, although Cameron felt the need to point out that it wasn't an admirable win, since it had taken a sudden death round. Way to be supportive.

"Did you get the book?" Heero practically snapped at me once the contest had been discussed in length, wolfing down his food.

"Oh no- of course I did!"

"Yes, you boys seem to be getting along just fine..." Tabytha remarked sarcastically but focused on her desert when Heero and I shot a look at her.

"And did you read the chapter?"

"Yes."

"Was it any good?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yes. It was fascinating, absolutely riveting. It was the most exciting read in my life," I deadpanned, then felt uncomfortable as the others stared at me. Cameron in particular had me on edge. He was just so... serious. Maybe that is why he left us, because my mom was always very goofy and playful. That must have bugged the shit out of him. Good. Asshole...

"I meant," Heero nearly seethed, "was there adequate information on Brahe?"

"Oh... uh, yeah, sure. Enough for an intro at least."

"Good. We should write that tonight."

We? I smirked at him, causing him to look away.

"Heero, would you like some desert?" Tabytha inquired once he had finished his soup.

"No, thank you. It is getting late, Duo and I should really get some work done on our paper." Heero promptly got up out of his seat and started towards the staircase, grabbing his laptop bag along the way.

Realizing he was heading for my bedroom, unattended, I jumped up and hurried after him. My bedroom was my domain. If he got to be possessive and protective - and obsessively secretive - about his bedroom, I could too. "Wait up!" I rushed after him on the stairs, but purposefully looked down at the steps, repeating a mantra in my head: don't look at his ass. Don't look at his ass. Don't look at his ass.

"Yeah, sure, go right inside, make yourself at home," I muttered when he burst through the door and seated himself at the desk.

He immediately started booting up his computer and leafed through the book that I had haphazardly thrown on the desk.

"So," I plopped down on the bed, "you want us to work together?"

He downplayed our breakthrough by stating: "I just didn't have time to read the chapter myself and according to the schedule we should have the introduction finished by tonight."

I frowned. "What schedule?"

"My schedule." He turned around with an irritated expression. Quickly becoming impatient with me. "If we stick to the schedule, we'll be done this weekend and we can hand it in on Monday."

I raised my hand into the air, like a student wanting to ask a question in class. This truly annoyed him.

"Yes?"

"I wouldn't want to argue with "the schedule", since it's like the thing that holds the universe together," I made a lot of exaggerated hand gestures to complete my mockery, "but the paper isn't due for another two and a half weeks."

He grunted. "I'm quite aware. I think it's better to hand things in early."

"Two weeks early?!"

"Yes." His tone was a little more meek, like he worried about me possibly judging him.

"Why?"

"I don't necessarily have to hand things in two weeks early, it's just that I always complete assignments ahead of time. I just work harder or faster than the other students."

I sighed. "I don't mean to sound repetitive, but: why?"

He frowned at me. "What else would I do with my time?"

I scoffed. "Geez, I don't know. Relax, have fun, hang out with friends?" I looked at his face and fell silent. "Oh," I let out as it dawned on me that he never did those things.

He glared at me, he must have noticed the sudden expression of pity on my features. "Some of us like to exercise our above average intelligence and focus our efforts on our future. What good does 'hanging out' do?" He turned back around in his seat and ignored me as I kept staring at him in shock. Finally, he burst: "You can stop looking at me like that. I have an IQ of 158. I have a 4.0 GPA, I have several science and engineering awards, I am president of the chess club and captain of the mathletes. Every summer I take advanced classes. When I graduate, universities are going to be falling over themselves offering me scholarships. I have all that. What do you have?" He shot a look at me over his shoulder.

I shrugged. "A life?" Or at least I did. Until my mom died. Now, i had to admit, I just had a photo album of a life.

He snorted degradingly. "What good is life if you are going to spend it flipping burgers?"

"I'm sorry, mister Modesty," I replied sarcastically, "we don't all have to be rocket scientists. I'm not saying it's bad to work hard for school or for your future but you don't get to say that flipping burgers or whatever is meaningless. Jobs are what we do, not who we are. We have to spend time with ourselves and, more importantly, with our friends and family."

"What do you know? You don't have any friends either and you have no family."

His words were like a knife right to my heart, plunging it through the vital muscle and then twisting it around with each syllable. Emotions flowed like blood and stained my sarcastic, detached mask that had been protecting me. There was no hiding behind it now. "What about you? You call your parents by their first name and you hide yourself in schoolwork so you don't have to be with anyone, not even with them! What the fuck is up with that, huh? I think you are just bitter, because if you are as smart as you think you are, you are fully aware that all that IQ and GPA and president stuff doesn't mean shit." I was near tears, but I fought them with all my strength because I didn't want him to have the gratification of knowing just how hard his words hit home. I didn't want him to see this soft-spot exposed and vulnerable, available for him to abuse and exploit. "At least I have the memory of family, of my mom. What memories do you have? There aren't even any family pictures in this house, just fucking awards! You are not a son to them, you are just the prodigy child; a commodity! You're just the thing that makes them look good at family reunions and office Christmas parties."

He had fallen into utter silence. His usual harsh look had melted away, leaving his features looking incredibly young and vulnerable.

"Fuck," I said to myself as it hit me then like a ton of bricks. His had just been a mask too.

We sat in silence, both our masks broken, not knowing what to do with ourselves or say to the other.

I wanted to hate him, like I hated Cameron. But I knew I couldn't. There was something about his annoying, arrogant, sarcastic attitude that was strangely likable. Probably because I had observed I was the same things when trying to defend against, hoping to keep others at distance. It made me realize that even though we had completely different lives and truly, devotedly, didn't want to have anything to do with each other out of non-sensical, petty reasons, there was no avoiding it. We had something in common: we were both sarcastic, detached assholes on the outside, damaged and lonely on the inside.

"I'm sorry."

I looked up, amazed. "What?"

"You heard me, don't make me repeat myself," he snapped, securing the mask back in place.

I followed his lead, forming a grin on my face. "Right..." I added sincerely: "I'm sorry too."

"Let's just finish this introduction," he suggested after another long, pregnant pause.

"Yeah. We don't want to mess with 'the schedule'."

He groaned at my banter.

"Hey, Heero, now that we have bonded a little, can I call you 'bro'?" I asked, hoping to lighten the atmosphere after what had probably been the most significant argument I had ever had, in my life.

He turned to his laptop to focus his gaze on the screen as he opened the file. He answered absentmindedly: "You could try. But only once."

"Why only once?"

"Because then I kill you."

I chuckled and grabbed an extra chair from the corner of the room and pushed it right up next to his.

"You know what's funny?" He asked flatly.

I interrupted my laughter to wonder: "No, what?"

"That you think I'm joking."

Unknowing to him, I smiled. He was going to grow to like me. He just didn't know it yet. And that was the fun part. We would never truly be family and no one would ever replace my mom, but maybe in him I would find the long term friend that I had never had. After all, I was going to be there for a while... might as well make the best of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Brothers**

**Chapter 6**

Of course we completed our assignment according to Heero's schedule. I realized very quickly there was little room for argument. I had wished for our forced interaction to bring us closer together – to help him understand me and to help me understand him – all this time spent together, however, only led to us being comfortable enough around each other to exchange vicious words.

Another thing I was quick to realize was that Heero was an easy guy to hate. He was arrogant, obnoxiously so, frustratingly quiet, inflexible, demanding and emotionally retarded – at least to some extent. Yes, he was very easy to hate. But I never did do things the easy way. I didn't want to hate him. Even though there was not a single similar strand of DNA in our bodies I considered him to be more like family than Cameron. Perhaps because our shared disinterest and distrust of our 'father' – I could tell Heero was apprehensive of him too – connected us. However, it seemed to be the only thing that connected us and that made for a terribly flimsy foundation of any sort of relationship; friendly or brotherly, or… otherwise, but I wasn't allowed to think along those line. On paper it was criminal and immoral to think along those lines. Best not to even tread down that path with the stealthiest of footfalls.

So inwardly I just grumbled about what a stubborn asshole he was, with him sitting right next to me in physics class. The teacher was so impressed by our work, handed in two weeks before the deadline, that he felt inclined to give us another assignment. At least, that was the story we would agree to tell Cameron and Tabytha. The truth, Heero assured me, would not fare well in the Maxwell residence. I believed him.

The truth was that we were sentenced to two weeks of detention – together! – because we showcased our brotherly tolerance for one another in the presence of the teacher and the thirty-something students riling us up.

"You ignorant imbecile!" Heero had started it. He had smacked me upside the head with our thick report that we were about to hand in. He obviously deeply regretted giving me the responsibility of fabricating a front page for our report, seeing as I had clearly made of mess of it, by his standard any way.

As a home-schooled kid, how was I supposed to know that there were very specific and strict guidelines for the front page? Down to font type and size! In my opinion the result was very professional looking, hell, I had spent all of my free period that day putting it together, because I didn't want to give him any ammunition. But now my damn brother was fully loaded and the safety was off.

"Well, it's your own fucking fault, you should have told me."

"You are right," He had agreed with a most sarcastic snort. "I should have known that I have to explain every single little thing to you… three times if not more!"

"What's the big fucking deal anyway? We'll make a new front page after school. I'll personally go find the teacher tomorrow and hand it in. What's one day?"

"As if I'd trust you to do anything right at this point."

"Oh, fuck you! Daddy's little boy, daddy's trophy boy. You have to be perfect or else he won't love you anymore. Now you're this anal little bitch!"

There were mean chuckles coming from the crowd surrounding us, momentarily distracting me.

"At least I don't do everything wrong. No wonder Cameron left your mother, she was probably just as stupid as you!"

Heero's vicious comment reeled me back into our heated argument. I had it coming. But still… Enraged, I punched him in the face. My fist connected with his cheekbone. Hard. The loud smack silenced everything, even my own heartbeat. Of course I regretted it as soon as my stroke fell.

I hadn't expected a physical retribution of any kind. Honestly, I thought Heero would be the kind of guy who let his words do the talking. But just as the teacher walked in, witnessing my punch, and roaring out our names as he approached us, Heero recovered, touched his reddened cheek only briefly before steeling his gaze and lunging forward, tackling me to the floor. He got in two hard punches to my gut, cheered on by our classmates who made filthy catcalls, when the teacher stood over him and pried him off of me.

The punishment was considered lenient, because of our delicate situation, being strangers thrown together in a house and promptly called 'brothers'. The teacher didn't make too big of a deal of it and if we agreed to detention, he would not inform the principal and then no parents would be called. We eagerly agreed. At home we had been keeping up pretenses that we were friends, we didn't want all our hard work shattered with Cameron hearing of our altercation.

The lesson was started as usual and the teacher let us hand in our report in spite of the front page that did not meet guidelines. Heero made him promise that it would not affect our grade.

Heero was seething next to me. In a way, this was a relief. I was relieved that he was not a psychopath, void of all emotions. He had me worried at some points. He seemed so… blasé about everything, like nothing could harm him. Not emotionally at least. I still hadn't been able to pry out of him why people at school were making remarks about his sexuality and promiscuity – to put it nicely. Not for lack of trying though. Every time he seemed completely unfazed. If it had bothered him, I was certain I would have gotten an answer out of him by now, for the purpose of shutting me up. He'd just shrug, or tell me to mind my own business, reminding me that we were not brothers, and no piece of paper was ever going to change that.

Come to think of it… I scratched the back of my head and shot a sideways glance at him.

He was rubbing his offended cheek, glaring at the blackboard at the front of the class where the teacher lectured incessantly.

In spite of my persevering pestering, he had never denied the rumors. Whether or not that meant anything I couldn't possibly know, but it did suddenly strike me as odd. When my mom used to question me about things, I was always quick to deny them. Regardless of whether the accusations were correct.

Duo, are these cigarettes yours?

No!

Duo, did you curse at the cashier?

Absolutely not!

Duo, please tell me you didn't steal this money.

Of course not!

"What are you smiling about?" Heero spat when he caught sight of my far-off gaze and curved mouth.

"Family. I can't even begin to explain that to you."

Looking away he grumbled: "Asshole."

"Dickface."

I said that a little bit too loud. The teacher spun on his heels and barked: "Maxwell!"

"Yes?" Heero and I said in unison and then we turned to glare menacingly at each other.

He sighed and continued the lesson.

After class I followed Heero to his locker. He threw accusations of me stalking him over his shoulder, quickening his pace, but he wasn't about to get rid of me so easily.

"I thought things were getting better. What happened this weekend that was so bad that you have to hate me again?"

"I had to spend it with you. It was exhausting." He ripped his locker open and got out his coat.

"Like you're a roll in the hay."

"We don't actually have to like each other," he insisted. "We just have to pretend."

"Yeah? And you figure we did a hella fine job of that just now? I may think a lot of things of Cameron that aren't exactly flattering, but he's not stupid, or blind. This act is going to fall through and who knows what kind of bonding exercise he will submit us to then."

Heero let out a deep sigh and slammed his locker shut. I had expected him to stomp off and leave me there, but instead he heavily leaned back against the wall of lockers and seemed to wait for me to continue.

In lower volume I continued: "I never asked to be part of this family. And I don't have the illusion that I am, or ever will be. I just want to make my way through this year and then I'm gone. Can't we just both work to make this year the least excruciating it can be?"

He directed stone cold eyes up at me. "If you don't want this year to be excruciating, you should leave."

"Can't you work with me here?"

He didn't respond, he gritted his teeth.

"Believe me, if I had the means, I'd do us both a favor and get the hell out of here. But I already tried to make it on my own and it didn't work, they found me. They brought me here. If I try to run they'll just find me again and bring me back. I don't think that is going to improve the situation."

Heero deflated.

Jeez, I thought, is it that much of a disappointment to know you are not going to get rid of me?

"I know," he breathed.

"Sorry?"

He looked up at me again, something other than disdain in his eyes for once, but I couldn't make sense of it before he blinked and it was gone. "I know they will find you."

I frowned deeply. "What? What do you mean?"

Heero reformed his usual scowl. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand anyway." Then he walked off.

"What wouldn't I understand?" I called and then jogged after him. "Do you know something? What, did Cameron send his goons to come find me?" I knew Cameron was once a successful lawyer, at a powerful firm and he always seemed to have a strong connection to the police force. Networking, bribing, who knew? All I knew was that before Cameron left, 'daddy' had a lot of cop-friends and he called in a lot of favors. Suddenly I imaged him as some kind of mafia godfather. The thought amused me, yet, at the same time, worried me.

Cameron had never reached out to me or my mom after he abandoned us, but maybe, after her death, he finally felt some kind of responsibility towards me and maybe he was the one to put in motion the investigation that eventually found me making a poor excuse of a living at the Las Vegas casinos.

Heero ignored my questions, he unlocked his bike, jumped on and raced off. I was left to walk home, in deep thought.

When I arrived at the house both cars were missing from the driveway, indicating that both Cameron and Tabytha weren't at home. That was a relief. I entered through the garage door and spotted Heero's bike, next to the others and the black motorcycle. I could hear his footfalls upstairs, in his own loft above the garage. He spent very little time in the house, he was always up in his room. It wasn't a mystery to me what he did up there. I was pretty convinced Heero's life revolved around his studies. His room was probably boring too, utterly practical and impersonal. Still, I was dying to be in there. Not because of what I might discover but because it would be a victory. No one could frustrate me quite like Heero could, but strangely I was still interested in him. I feared it was because of something I didn't dare to admit, not even to myself. We may not be brothers but we were still… 'brothers'.

I went into the house and upstairs to my own domain. I worked on my homework and then spent some time surfing the web.

Somewhere near dinner time I was startled by an abrupt and curt knock on my bedroom door.

Embarrassed I clicked away the high school mathletes webpage and called: "Yeah?"

The door promptly swung open. I was surprised to see Heero standing there, looking as pissed off as he did in the picture that I had had in the background for most of the afternoon.

"Tabytha just texted me, she and Cameron will not be back until late, so we have to arrange our own dinner."

It was still weird to me that he didn't call them 'mom' and 'dad'. But then again, they were equally distant towards him, so why shouldn't he? Maybe, in fact, he should be referring to them as mister and misses Maxwell. That would more accurately reflect the nature of their relationship, as far as I had been able to observe these past few weeks.

"Okayy," I drawled. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I already ordered pizza, you can do whatever you want." After that announcement he stepped back and pulled the door shut.

Thanks, I thought sarcastically. I jumped up and headed for the kitchen, to see if there was anything I could fix for myself. Heero was sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for his order. He had a tablet in his hand and swiped his finger from right to left across the screen as he leafed through pages of what looked to be a boring – probably scientific – document.

"What are you reading?" I inquired politely as I stuck my head into the fridge for recon.

"It wouldn't interest you. Too many big words."

I rolled my eyes. The dumb-jokes were really getting old. I pulled out a lot of left-over things that I thought would make a pretty mean sandwich and set to work. "I think we did a pretty good job on our assignment," I remarked matter-of-factly.

"We'd better."

"Or else?" I shot back with a grin.

"Or else I'd kill you."

I chuckled. "You've said that before. I think your bark is worse than your bite."

"How would you know? I haven't bitten you yet," He replied absent-mindedly, yet there was something dark about the comment.

I ignored the implied threat and winked at him. "Hmm, come on over and have a taste, baby."

He scrunched up his face in dismay, masking his shock.

"How's your face by the way?"

"It's fine. You hit like a girl."

I chuckled freely.

"We have to come up with an excuse," He started flatly, after a few moments of silence.

"For what?"

"For why we'll be home two hours late every day for the next two weeks. We can't tell the truth." He was adamant.

"Oh, right." After a brief moment of thought I suggested: "We can just say we can only work on our extra assignment at school. In the science lab or something."

"Acceptable."

"It's a good idea, that's what it is."

Heero's pizza arrived and without saying anything he paid for it and took it upstairs to his room.

Whether or not it actually was such a good idea, I didn't know, but it didn't really matter, Cameron and Tabytha bought it, which was the purpose of it all.

The next day we reported to the physics classroom for our detention.

"I had a little talk with the other teachers," the physics teacher said upon our entry. With a smirk he continued: "Don't worry we have plenty of chores for you to do over the next two weeks. You can start here by cleaning this classroom, you can get mop and buckets at the janitor's office. Oh and don't forget to bring some tools to scrape the chewing gum off the undersides of the tables. That should keep you busy till five. Report to me in the teacher's lounge when you are done." After leaving those instructions he left us alone.

"He's enjoying this way too much," I remarked as I watched him leave.

Heero too left the classroom, presumably to find the janitor for supplies, so I followed him.

The older man was more than happy to supply us with two buckets with hot, soapy water, two mops, rags and sharp tools for the chewing gum. Knowing of the altercation that got us in trouble, he joked: "Don't kill each other with these."

I thought: Don't put any ideas in his head. I faked a smile and took my share of the materials from him and then jogged after Heero.

We started with scraping off the chewing gum. A disgusting and frustrating chore that we both focused on intently just so we wouldn't have to talk to each other. I got increasingly pissed off. Even though I was the one to initiate the fight in a physical sense, by slapping him, he took it too far by tackling me to the floor and throwing punches at my gut – which had gotten quite bruised, the little asshole packs quite a punch – and his intense and aggressive reaction was probably what had gotten us into more trouble than my slap would have gotten us in. Besides he had started this all by overreacting to my understandable mistake!

What was the big deal anyway? I was just being nasty when I said that he has to be perfect or else Cameron wouldn't love him anymore. Something about Cameron's life with Tabytha and Heero must make him happy – something more real and important than his son's outstanding grades – or else he would have left already, like he left me and my mom.

Maybe that is why things blew up between us, after a promising change last Friday. Maybe we could never stop resenting each other because I would always be bothered by the unconscious pain that, in a way, Cameron left me for him, he was good enough and I wasn't. And maybe Heero would always be burdened with the realization that no matter how good his grades were, or of how many clubs he was president, he would never be flesh and blood and there would always be something 'special' between me and Cameron, even if I was a total idiot.

I didn't know if that was what he felt, but I would be understanding if he did. But most of the time it just felt like he hated me for me. Every time that thought popped into my head, it became irresistible to yell back at him just as loud and just as mean as he was yelling at me.

I hated that I cared enough to let it get to me. I wanted to fly under the radar this year, just make it through, make it through. I would have been fine being invisible to them. I didn't expect to care. I didn't expect to care that Cameron had once left me and my mom – I had never given it much thought before – and I didn't expect to care about this stranger that is supposed to be my brother, whom I owed nothing and who owed me nothing.

Life had funny ways.

"Why are you staring at me?" Heero demanded to know, annoyed by me as usual.

I hadn't even realized I had been staring, lost so deeply in thought. I just said: "Sorry." Then I finished scraping the chewing gum off the underside of the last table.

Heero blinked, now he was staring. Obviously he had expected an argument to ensue.

"Heero," I started out of the blue, "do you hate me?"

His answer was immediate: "No."

I smiled, but that smile faltered as he added:

"How can I hate you when I don't even know you, or care about you?"

"Right."

We didn't speak again. It was easier not to. Although, I wasn't really sure if it was better than the constant fighting, at least then we acknowledged each other's existence – by spitting on it. But Heero seemed perfectly content to not just not be my brother, but not even be a stranger, he disappeared, made himself part of the furniture, or part of thin air. As he sure as hell wished I could just disappear, for real. Why? God knows, but not me, that much was certain. He was probably just as confused as I was, not knowing what to feel, what to think. But that was putting words in his mouth. I kept thinking that he was like me, only to be reminded that that was probably a mistake. Why would he be like me? Why would he feel like me? Why would he think like me? Nature wasn't the answer. Nurture? I grew up on the road, abandoned by my father, watching my mother slowly slip away and not being able to do anything about that, or about her heavy guilt, that was in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Heero got adopted by a rich mommy and – my – daddy when he was eight, he probably remembered as much about his old life as I did – practically nothing, his life was all shiny and pretty, no hunger, no desperation, no cleaning mom's vomit out of the car seat.

No, we were very different, I concluded grimly and shot a look his way. But I couldn't hate him just because of that and I didn't. I supposed I was so desperate for family, I needed him to be it. Anyone other than Cameron, the kind of father who abandons one son and spies on both.

Detention came to an end. Heero jumped on his bike and sped off, I casually trotted after him.

Cameron never suspected anything. It probably never crossed his mind that his prodigy child could be in detention. And with Heero as my wingman, I was never suspected of anything either.

Two weeks of detention crawled by. It was agony. Silent agony. I was the kind of guy who needed conversation – word! Words! Anything! – but Heero was giving me nothing.

We took our seats next to each other in physics class. The teacher started the class by handing out the graded reports. I waited with sweaty hands. I didn't care that much for grades, but I knew it meant everything to Heero and I didn't want to give him an actual reason to hate me. Then this year would be completely unbearable. If I could just avoid giving him reality-based reasons, maybe I still stood a chance.

When the teacher walked by our table, he didn't give us anything, he leaned in and said in a hushed voice: "Meet me after class."

Heero went rigid.

And so did I. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Heero didn't respond, but I saw him rub white knuckled hands together. Not good.

That one class was more excruciating than the entire two weeks of detention. It was like sitting next to a time bomb, just waiting to blow shrapnel into my body. Around us whispers started, then chuckles.

I threw a look over my shoulder and the girl behind me – in a cheerleader uniform – looked right at me, holding my stare, then she turned to her partner and leaned in close to whisper something in her ear. The girl covered her mouth to control the burst of laughter.

The teacher snapped his fingers. "Maxwell, eyes up front."

"Yeah, other Maxwell, take a gooood look." A boy leered.

Everybody laughed.

The teacher addressed him with a harsh tone: "That's it, mister Colt, you're out of here."

The young man protested. "I didn't do anything! It's not like I got in a fist-fight with anyone," he pointedly looked our way.

"I don't care. I don't like that kind of innuendo's in my class."

What the fuck is going on? I asked myself.

Heero ignored the entire interaction and was still just scribbling down notes on the teacher's interrupted lecture.

"But-"

"Out!" The teacher threw his arm up and pointed straight at the door.

Angrily the student packed his stuff and got up, scuffing his feet.

"And come see me tomorrow about that F I just handed back to you," the teacher added right before Colt slammed the door.

I was too confused to focus on the rest of class, eager to know what was the exact meaning of all of that. But Heero's wasn't going to tell me, he neglected all my hushed attempts to get answers out of him.

Blissfully, the class ended and we stepped up to the teacher's desk. The older man busied himself wiping the board clean as the classroom emptied. To the last one he called: "Shut the door!" And they did.

"Sir, what was that all about?"

He raised his eyebrows, surprised that I didn't know. "If you don't know then you don't need to know."

That answer was more frustrating than Heero's cold shoulder, because it only made me more curious.

"About your report," he opened up the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a familiar stack of paper.

I frowned when I read the red and circled grade, upside down. A-. What the fuck was the big deal about an A-? I felt ecstatic, it was the best grade I had ever gotten. However that feeling soon drained out of me when I saw Heero's slumped shoulders. All of me was filled anew with confusion and curiosity.

"I was hoping to avoid a situation by handing this back to you in private," the teacher explained as he pushed it across the desk, towards us.

Heero shook his head. "I don't mind the remarks."

"I do." The teacher said, talking to Heero like I wasn't there. "It's not just an insult to you, it's an insult to me too and I do mind."

"What the fuck is going on?"

The teacher looked at me. "I commend you for not paying attention to nasty gossip. You should keep it that way and stay out of it. Unless your brother thinks otherwise."

"He's not my brother," Heero and I mumbled in unison.

The grey haired man sighed.

"Why did we get an A-?" Heero demanded to know, he seemed ready to contest the grade.

"It was a good report, very detailed, very in depth, no factual errors. That is why it's an A. However, I did deduct some overall points for lack of focus. You get into detail about aspects that are leaning towards being off-topic. It made some parts convoluted."

"What do you mean, we didn't write anything that was incorrect," Heero argued.

"No, you didn't. An A- is still a great grade, Heero. It's just not an A or an A+, like your usual, because you delved into unnecessary information. I let it slide before, but not this time. Think of this as a cookie recipe," he held up the report, "mixed with information on the mass production of flour."

"But that is valid information."

"But not relevant when you are baking cookies, making the recipe difficult to follow and therefore affecting the quality of the recipe and the end result. You need to learn more focus in your papers. It's great that you know a lot of extra things, research a lot of extra things and put in a lot of extra effort, but 'extra' isn't always better."

"But-"

"The grade stands, Heero. Nothing," he stressed, "is going to change it."

Heero ripped the report from his hands and stormed off.

"Congratulations on your A-, Duo."

"Thanks." I didn't feel very victorious. Not until I had some answers. I chased Heero to the bike stands at the side of the building.

"Is an A- really that bad to you?"

"Yes. Technically it's the worst grade I have ever gotten."

"Technically?" Wheels in my head whirred as I puzzled the pieces together. "Is that what he meant with 'Nothing can change that?' You're in the habit of convincing teachers to change your grades?"

He shrugged, unlocking his bike.

I snorted and joked bitterly: "Jesus, what would that take, sleeping with them?"

Heero stilled.

I had my answer. It came as a shock, to put it mildly. "Oh my God…" I stared at him in disbelief.

"What's the big deal?" He snarled once confronted with my flabbergasted expression.

"What's the big deal?" I mirrored breathlessly. "You fucked a teacher for a better grade! Assuming there was only one."

"There was only one. Now get out of my way," he demanded as I blocked the exit.

"What the hell happened? Who suggested it?"

He glared at me. "What does it matter?" He seemed to really be lost on the gravity of his stunning admission.

"Well excuse me, but when someone drops a bomb on me like this I like doing a little CSI, figure out what the fuck happened."

He sighed dramatically and obliged out of impatience: "He gave me an A-, I thought it was unfair, so I convinced him I knew my stuff by having sex with him so he would give me an A+. And he did."

"Knew your stuff?" I waved my finger back and forth at him. "No, no. Have you ever watched CSI? This is not how it works. I need to know the exact trajectory of each fucking blood splatter on the wall."

"Why?"

"Why? Because apparently now I am involved in this, or so everybody at school thinks. Because they know, right? And that is why they call you a whore and mimic a blowjob behind your back."

He appeared unfazed, despite my crudeness.

"Everybody in that classroom snickered at the thought of us having a threesome with the old geezer to upgrade our A-! If you don't care, then you might as well tell me."

"Fine." He leaned the bike against the wall and impatiently put his hands on his hips. Monotonously he started: "It was a Sex Ed class. In addition to a test we had to write an essay, on safe sex and what goes where and all that stuff. The teacher was this thirty-something Phys Ed teacher and he'd been eyeing me all semester and making shy passes, it was really boring."

I frowned at that. Interesting choice of adjective. I probably would have used 'creepy' or 'frustrating'.

Heero continued mechanically, rolling his eyes and sighing impatiently with frequency: "He gave me an A- on my essay and when I asked him about that after school he said that he didn't feel like I had 'grasped it'. He was being all vague and nervous. I knew my essay was flawless and I knew that I 'grasped it'. So I showed him."

My jaw dropped, partly at the shocking story, partly at the nonchalance with which he shared it.

"I asked him if he had a condom, he stammered that he had one in his wallet, so I took it, put it on his dick and showed him I knew enough about sex to deserve better than an A-," Heero clarified, probably mostly for shock value. He shrugged. "He changed my grade to an A+. I thought that was the end of it, but he got even more weird. The next year guilt was apparently eating him up so he confessed to the principal so I could get help for the damage he had done to me. What an idiot. Anyway, the story got out because of some stupid part-time school nurse. Everyone thinks it's just a rumor, but they like it so they accept it as truth."

A deep frown marked my forehead. "And none of this bothers you?"

He shrugged again. "No. The school year was over before he told, so it was too late to change my grade back anyway."

I was baffled at his response. "But what about Cameron and Tabytha? Weren't they pissed off at you?"

"Of course they were, Cameron at least. He hates it as much as I do when I get an A-."

My eyes nearly popped out of the sockets. "No, I meant: weren't they pissed off, or at least concerned, that you had sex with a teacher for a better grade?"

"Oh. Yeah sure."

I didn't know how to process any of this. For the first time the thought occurred to me that in spite of what I had been through with my mom, he may well have been the most fucked up out of the two of us. He was so casual about it. It concerned me. Made me wonder how low he must value himself to use himself that way to get the best grades. Maybe it had to do with his past, before his adoption. Maybe he remembered more of his past life than I did of mine. Or maybe it was Cameron, putting so much pressure on him that Heero would rather prostitute himself in exchange for an A+ than admit to Cameron that he 'failed'.

'Daddy's little boy, daddy's trophy boy. You have to be perfect or else he won't love you anymore.' Had I been right? That made me feel sick. Not just because it might be true, but because I yelled it in his face.

"Are you going to let me pass now?"

I stepped aside but stopped him with my valid question: "What do you want to tell Cameron about this A-?"

With his back turned t me he thought it over. "We have no choice but to tell him." His voice was dark.

"We could lie…" I suggested quietly. "Like we told him we had an extra assignment instead of detention."

Heero snorted. "That lie works because we said that assignment wouldn't be graded. He only cares about grades; measurable performance. He practically goes over my report cards with a magnifying glass. He won't miss a glaringly obvious A-." He threw his leg over the seat and sped off.

I watched him go. I had some answers, but now I was only more confused and more concerned. I had expected that once I would get to know this 'family' better, I would feel better about them, bridge the gap perhaps. But with the first of the mysteries revealed, I didn't feel any better, nor did I feel any closer to them and I didn't want to be. Instead it became increasingly apparent how lucky I had been that Cameron decided me and my mom weren't good enough for him.

With dread I went back to the Maxwell house. Cameron's fancy sedan was missing from the driveway, he was still at work. Light came through the street-facing window in the loft above the garage and sometimes I saw Heero's shadow moving along the wall. Inside Tabytha was walking around awkwardly on bare feet with toe-separators, her toenails a bright pink.

"Ah! Finally, someone is here!" She exclaimed as she spotted me step through the front door with hesitation. "Come, come!" She waddled toward me, grabbed my arm and pulled me to the kitchen table. "I could really use someone else's opinion on this."

"Why didn't you just call Heero downstairs?"

"Oh, he's home?" Then she shook her head. "Heero isn't of much help when he comes to this." She directed me to folders spread out on the surface of the table. Travel brochures. Pictures of exotic places, foreign traditions and white beaches. "Cameron and I decided that our wedding gift to my sister would be a honeymoon vacation!" She announced gleefully. "She thinks I am arranging a lame midweek in an Aspen ski resort for her, but she went there the last two times, it's time to break the routine if she wants this man to stick around!" Tabytha laughed. "Now, I have my preferences, but there are two people going on this trip, one of them a man, so I need a man's opinion. What would you like? An African Safari? Or maybe a Caribbean cruise? Or perhaps a fourteen day city trip through Europe? Or, this one; a luxury vacation in the Icelandic hot springs? Or a cultural trip through Egypt?"

I stared at the myriad of tantalizing images. Places I had never been and would never get to go. It made it difficult to make a decision. It was too impossible for my mind to consider, even hypothetically, for someone else. "Egypt?" I tried dumbly and I picked up a brochure with a picture of the Sphinx.

She made a face. "It's so hot there and so sandy. A woman has to look good on her honeymoon, not all sweaty with burned skin and cracked lips."

Then why did you ask? I wondered, frustrated. Clearly she wasn't going to let me go until we had reached a decision, so I made my next, random pick. "Africa?"

"Hmmm… I don't know. To be honest, my sister prefers wearing animals to seeing them." She let out a hearty laugh.

In the interest of speeding the process along, I opted for a city trip through Europe.

"I'm so glad you picked that one!" She squealed. "I think it's the perfect honeymoon, lots of luxury hotels and lots of shopping opportunities."

Poor guy, I thought, God knows how much guys like a two week long shopping spree with their wives.

I retreated upstairs to mull over the overwhelming new information of the day. Suddenly, I saw Heero in a completely different light. He went from an arrogant, entitled snob to a troubled and damaged kid and I was surprised at my own emotional reaction to that; I wanted to protect him, I wanted to help him. Technically I was his big brother, if only by a couple of months and on paper, but maybe I should start acting the part after all. I had been obsessed with making this year bearable for myself, but my focus was shifted to making Heero's life more bearable. All in a day's work.

I took my laptop into my lap as I settled back on the bed and went to the mathletes page, that I had visited so often. The picture hadn't changed one bit, the same people, the same setting, the same expressions, but I perceived the whole thing as different. Heero especially.

I felt sorry for him, though I knew he would hate that and with argue with that.

A few hours later Cameron had returned home from work and I was called downstairs for dinner. Cameron looked different to me too. I had always been suspicious and distrusting of him, but in the back of my head had been the glimmer of 'benefit of the doubt'. My concern for Heero and for myself, honestly – because what kind of household had I been thrown back into? – cast a thick shadow over that glimmer.

As always, Cameron asked us about school. It was the only thing he ever discussed with us and after the revelation of that day that became all the more poignant.

Heero shot a look at me. Maybe there was fear in his eyes, but I wasn't sure. He blinked and nothing but a dead stare remained. He redirected it at Cameron and started: "We received our grade for our physics assignment."

"Great." Cameron sounded a little apprehensive and briefly looked at me. He probably worried that I would be responsible for messing up his son's perfect record.

My thoughts paused. I wasn't responsible, it had been Heero's fault – I even asked him if the report wasn't unnecessarily elaborate. But I could pretend to be. I could take the responsibility.

"We got an A-."

Cameron's face turned to stone, his eyes fittingly stone cold. He held his stare with Heero temporarily, then fixed his gaze on me, expecting the blame was mine.

"It's my own fault," Heero said before Cameron could accuse me, drawing his adoptive father's attention back to him.

Cameron's white knuckled hands were strangling his steak knife and fork. The tension in his entire body frightened me, all the more so because his expression was so calm and impassive.

"No," I interjected. "He's just standing up for me. It was my fault." At Heero's earnestly shocked expression I gave him a nod to reassure him that I was certain of my decision to take the blame.

"I was worried this would happen…" Cameron said, disappointed.

"Yeah, it was all my stupid fault. I wanted to do really well, but I guess I got a little zealous and I just added way too much irrelevant detail. The teacher had to deduct points because some parts were borderline off-topic."

Our father let out a deep sigh. His hand relaxed and he placed the cutlery neatly on the table beside his plate. "Well, I appreciate that you tried to do well. But you should have been more thoughtful and you should have asked for Heero's guidance," Cameron said strictly. Then he turned to face Heero. "I am impressed that you were willing to take the fall for Duo's mistake, but I think you should own up to your own responsibility and your own errors. If Duo made mistakes than you should have spotted them and corrected them. I don't want you to slack off now that you have a partner to share the workload with, you should have known to check his work."

It was hard not to be offended by Cameron's words but I was too preoccupied studying their interaction in a new light, given today's information. Cameron I recognized to be as dominant and overpowering as I had always perceived him, but I didn't notice until then how submissive Heero's demeanor was. He didn't look Cameron in the eye, he looked down at his plate, head bowed with shame. And he didn't speak, no impatient and frustrated 'uhuh's and 'yeah's that you might expect from a teenager. He only occasionally nodded his head.

Cameron finished with a finger pointing at his adoptive son. "We are going to have a talk about this later this evening, young man."

Heero seemed to shrink into himself.

"And I think you and I need to have a talk also," he directed at me.

"Okay."

The tense atmosphere ruined everybody's appetite but Cameron's. Soon Heero and I were ordered to clear to table – no dessert, like we were five year olds caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar – and then we each went up to our own room.

I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. I had homework due the next day but I couldn't focus on algebra and early American history.

I remembered my mother, disappearing into her deathbed, becoming smaller every day. She had told me: Don't let them take you back to him. I still remembered the feel of the crumpled up bills in my sweaty palms. All the money she had managed to save up for that day. The day she told me to run from social services. I had assumed she didn't want me to go back to him out of spite, that she didn't want him to have me as a son after all, after he left us to fend for ourselves. But maybe in truth she had come to realize over the years what a blessing in disguise it had been that he had left us. What a poison he could have been to me. I barely remembered anything from before he left, but maybe in hindsight she had seen the signs of an overbearing, controlling father. I just hoped that had offered her some peace in life, to cope with being abandoned. And I just hoped that in Heaven she had no idea of me being in that house – his house.

Late that evening there was a knock on my bedroom door. That was the only warning I got. The door swung open and Cameron appeared uninvited.

As casually as I could I closed the screen of my laptop. Luckily it was angled so he couldn't have seen the mathletes picture – zoomed in on Heero's face – from the doorway.

"I still wanted to talk to you." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

I straightened up in bed, I wasn't sure what I should be prepared for but for some reason my body instinctively prepared itself to bolt.

"I couldn't be happier that you and Heero seem to have become genuine friends," he started. He sounded insincere, or maybe he was just really tired. He looked really tired. "That makes you his first and only friend. But school should be Heero's priority." He waited for me to agree.

"Sure. Yeah."

"I want you to take this seriously, Duo." His voice took on a more commanding tone.

"I do take it seriously," I lied through my teeth, "I know how important school is for Heero. I don't want to get in the way of that."

"That is very reassuring to hear. Please understand that I am not mad at you. You made a mistake, that is not unforgivable." I had a suspicion that he only granted me this leniency because he still sought for me to forgive him for his mistake, for leaving me and my mom. "You haven't been to an actual high school, so how could you know how to write a good report?"

I took that as an insult towards my mother and her teaching – which she was great at - but I wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I'm most disappointed that Heero didn't catch the error. I want you two to be friends, but I don't want Heero to lose focus."

"I doubt he will."

He looked at me for a long time, scrutinizing me.

I stared back at him, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

"I know Heero told you about the incident with the teacher."

I raised my eyebrows. I hadn't expected him to bring it up and I hadn't expected Heero to tell him.

"He said he didn't, but I know my son."

Well, one out of two, maybe.

"So you know how important it is for Heero to be successful academically."

I couldn't contain my sarcastic remark: "Do you really believe that was all about his devotion to straight A's?"

"Don't you assume things, Duo," he warned. "As much as I regret it, you don't know this family."

Regret? I was unconvinced.

"All I wanted to say was: I want you to be friends, but I don't want you to interfere. Do you understand?"

I stared at him defiantly. He doesn't just not want me to cut into Heero's study time, he doesn't want me to snoop, he doesn't want me to know things. I could tell. That just made me all the more inclined to find out exactly what he doesn't want me to know.

"Duo?"

"I won't interfere," I promised him. My legs, casually crossed at the ankle, served as crossed fingers.

"Thank you." With a nod he excused himself and left my room.

"Fucking freak," I whispered to myself once the door was closed. He thought he had the right to secretly spy on me but he wanted to deny me the right to figure out this twisted family dynamic? I wasn't deterred so easily. He saved me from his own mind-control by leaving, forfeiting his ability to command me to either do or not do anything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Brothers**

**Chapter Seven**

"Here you are," I stated jovially, looking down at him. "I've been looking all over for you. I wondered where you always ate your lunch."

Heero shot back, characteristically annoyed: "Why are you talking - why are you sitting?" He looked at me more than a little perturbed when I seated myself closely next to him on the third step of the stairway, in a corner of the school building that sees very little student traffic.

"I just thought I'd have lunch with my little brother."

He made a face. "I'm not your brother."

"Tough shit. Some of my DNA would really do you good. Balance out that whole anal-retentive thing you've got going on." With a grin I took a big bite from the sandwich Tabytha had packed for me.

"Oh yes, undoubtedly I would be much better off if I were a slob like you," He replied sarcastically and with dismay his eyes followed a glob of mayonnaise dripping from my sandwich to my lap, staining my dark jeans.

"Glad we agree on something. Want a bite?" I held the dripping sandwich out towards him.

Heero violently pulled away from me, scooting several feet away.

"What are you doing?" I nodded at the papers in his lap.

He frowned. "Why are you talking to me?"

"It's one of the basics of human interaction…" I pointed out dryly. "I know that, like, seventy percent of communication is non-verbal; so body language and facial expression and stuff, but I'm really tired of 'listening' to what your haughty, displeased face has to say, so I thought we could try something new. On the off-chance that your mouth actually has something nice to say."

"I don't have time to talk to you. Verbally or non-verbally. I'm busy." He pointedly bent himself over his work.

"It's lunch. Lunch is for lunch."

"For you maybe. I am taking a course of Computer Science at the learning center. I hadn't yet found the time to catch up on my reading."

I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes. "Can't spare five fucking minutes to talk to me? I thought we were hot again."

He snapped his head up at me and blinked confusedly. "Excuse me?"

"We are constantly doing this hot and cold thing. One day you hate my guts and ignore me and the other day you actually offer a sliver of hope by acknowledging my existence. I thought today was a hot day."

"You're crazy…" He noted, staring at me like he honestly believed that. Then he shook his head and redirected his eyes to his reading material.

"Why study so hard? Aren't the teachers at the learning center receptive to sexual favors?" I knew I was being harsh, but not without reason. I had to do something to get his attention. I was curious to get to know him better, partly because I was eager to reveal the secrets of this not-so-perfect family. I looked forward to being able to say to Cameron, on my eighteenth birthday, that he wasn't good enough for me. And then promptly leave the way he had left me and my mom.

Heero looked up at me, his eyes stone cold. "Shut up," he said, his tone dangerously calm. "What are you trying to imply, that I am too dumb to get good grades without 'sexual favors?'"

I blinked. "Uh… no. I was trying to imply that you whore yourself off without good reason. But you don't even see it that way, do you? You don't even see how fucked up it is that you are so blasé about all of this."

"I told you, it's not a big deal. Besides, it was a Sex Ed class, I think it was an appropriate final exam."

His calm, casual tone frightened me. I wondered how he could possibly be so impersonal about what had happened. That prompted the question: "What happened to you before you were adopted?"

His eyes became wild, his entire body went rigid. "Shut up!" He suddenly yelled, a complete contrast to his calm from before. "Shut up! Shut up and leave me alone!"

His reaction left me stunned, I had not been prepared for it. "Heero-"

"Mind your own fucking business! And find your own goddamn staircase to have lunch on! This place is mine!"

I held my hands up in surrender, attempting to appease him. Slowly, I got up on my feet. "Okay… okay…" I shushed, like I was trying to calm down a wild, cornered animal, but I wasn't about to leave, I had every intention of resolving the issue, even though I hardly grasped the meaning of it all.

"Leave me alone!" He screamed, his voice hoarse with raw emotions that took us both by surprise. Heero took a few deep breaths, his eyes purposefully turned away. He seemed embarrassed and regretful about letting his emotions shine through. With haste he gathered up the papers that were in his lap and spread around him on the steps and he promptly left, climbing up the stairs.

"Heero, I'm sorry," I called after him. Obviously by bringing up his past I had greatly upset him and I felt guilty about that. I had only meant to pry a genuine reaction out of him, inspire interaction between us. I hadn't expected my words to have that kind of effect.

Heero didn't respond to me and soon turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.

Before I could decide whether it would be helpful or even appropriate for me to go after him, the bell rang and I realized I had classes at the other end of the school building. I couldn't risk being late, the school had a strict policy and Cameron would learn of any tardiness on my behalf. I didn't want to give him any ammunition. My best cover was to appease him, I figured that as long as I wasn't too big of a disappointment I could fly under the radar and gather some relevant intelligence on the off-beat family that I had been dropped into.

Reluctantly I made my way to class.

I spent the rest of the day with my body confined to classrooms and crowded hallways, but my mind being completely elsewhere. Heero's severe reaction to me emotionally prodding him kept repeating in my head, but I couldn't extract anything more useful out of it than the realization something dark must have happened to him in his past. After giving it some thought, I wasn't surprised. After all, why else would he have been given up for adoption, if things hadn't been dark where he had come from?

Heero had to be the key to unlocking the mystery of the twisted family dynamic at the Maxwell residence.

I was more curious than ever.

Unfortunately any kind of progress I had made with Heero had been undone by my provoking him during that lunch hour. There were no more "hot days" that made me believe I was getting any closer to him, the "cold days" only seemed colder than ever. Of course we still had to play by Cameron's rules and maintain the façade of us getting along better if we wished to avoid his meddling, but that only made matters more uncomfortable, as he would, at times, join me in my room and we would spend several hours sharing that small space without even acknowledging each other. The silences were incredibly tense and for some reason each attempt of mine to interrupt the silence died in my throat. None of my attempts to mend things between us had been successful and I was fast losing my confidence in my ability to patch things up. I felt like my investigation was hitting an insurmountable wall. Cameron and Tabytha weren't giving me anything - other than the creeps, with their subdued, controlled attitude and mannerisms – the house I had already raided when I first got there without much result and Heero was completely stonewalling me.

It was… boring.

I listened to the furious scribble of Heero's pencil on a new page of his notebook as he sat – stubbornly quiet - in my desk chair, working intensely on God knows what – world domination maybe. Ignoring me had been perfected to an art by my step-brother. He didn't even flinch anymore when I would purposefully scrape my throat or move around on my bed, where I always sat, with my laptop in my lap. He wouldn't even sneer at me anymore if I started up a violent online game and 'accidentally' neglected to plug in my earphones. Digital soldiers would be dying with terrified screams or a gurgle as they choked on their own blood and he would just sit there. Writing.

I caught myself paying less and less attention to the games, the movies, or the music I put on to distract myself in the eerie quiet. Instead, I spent most of our shared time watching him, my eyes tracing the outline of bulky clothing masking what the belt on his hips, holding up his trousers, revealed to be a slim frame. The long, stiff neck, the wayward hair, the sharp nose and full lips, the lower lip usually being caught by his front teeth as he worked. Sometimes he would turn his head just enough for me to see the line etched between his eyebrows as he always seemed to frown. Not a confused frown, but an angry frown.

I wanted to hate him, he was being a spoiled brat after all, but I couldn't. I knew a troubled kid when I saw one. And I should, I saw a troubled kid every time I looked in the mirror.

Though, sympathetic as I was to him and curious as I was, his capacity to annoy me was in no way diminished. His silence was merely the latest method and for lack of a better option I figured I would just have to wait it out. I trusted that, eventually, he wouldn't be able to ignore me any longer, after all, seeing as how upset I had made him during that lunch break, he must slowly be overcome with the yearning to 'rip me a new one'.

When we were called down for dinner we both practically jumped at the opportunity, even though neither of us very much appreciated the presence of neither Tabytha nor Cameron, that was no secret. As we headed down the stairs, I started talking to Heero about a make-believe subject, pretending to be finishing a conversation we had been having. Little theatrical displays like that I deemed to be necessary to successfully sell our brotherly bonding to the ever-meddlesome Cameron, but Heero gave me nothing in return to work with.

Tabytha was still on the kitchen, talking rapidly into the cellphone she held pressed between her ear and shoulder and her manicured hands rifled through a large look-book on the counter.

We took our seat at the table with Cameron and we waited for Tabytha to finish her call and bring us our plates.

"Sorry about that, boys," She apologized insincerely as she sat down after serving us. "The wedding location fell through and now we are hard-pressed to find something equally perfect," she explained, although no-one had inquired, or even seemed interested for that matter. "I'm going on a little road-trip with the girls this weekend to visit the top contenders."

Cameron suddenly lay down his fork and knife and the gesture caught everyone's attention.

I stopped chewing my lamb chop. The tension in the room alerted me to shit making its way towards the proverbial fan.

"This weekend?" Cameron asked with a small smile that made me feel uneasy.

From the look on Tabytha's face I deduced she just then realized the mistake she had made but quickly weighed her options and decided to play dumb.

"Yes, darling. Why, is something wrong?"

"I told you, I have already made plans for me and Heero to go up to the cabin this weekend for one of our fishing trips," He calmly informed her and then turned to Heero with the sideway remark: "It was supposed to be a surprise."

Heero didn't look up from his plate.

Tabytha fumbled: "Well, you can still do that, can't you?"

"We can't very well leave Duo here alone."

Tabytha looked at me. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine. And I don't think he would mind. Would you, Duo?"

I shook my head.

"I'm not sure if that is such a good idea." Cameron stated flatly.

"Maybe you could take Duo with you to the cabin then?" Erupted out of the housewife. After the remark her eyes became wide.

Her husband replied: "I would love for Duo to come with us."

For the first time in days I could feel Heero's eyes on me, but I was preoccupied trying to see through Cameron's façade. Unsuccessfully.

"But," The tall man continued, "this is a tradition between Heero and I. I don't want things to change too drastically for Heero. He probably already has had a hard time getting used to sharing us." He looked at his son adoringly.

My brother's gaze fell back to his plate.

"Surely Duo understands." Cameron looked at me expectantly.

"Oh. Yeah. Sure."

"What are we going to do about this weekend?" Tabytha questioned. "I really need to help decide on a new wedding location."

Cameron's cool slipped briefly and he shot her a glare, clearly not appreciative of, nor used to, her defiance. He let the silence stretch for an uncomfortable amount of time, likely expecting his wife to offer to stay and baby-sit me after all. When she disappointed him by remaining equally stone-faced, his lips forced another smile and he placated: "Fine, fine. I suppose we can trust Duo is mature and responsible enough to be left to his own devices for one weekend."

Wow, he clearly doesn't know me at all, I thought to myself.

With the issue settled, dinner continued in silence. However, I noticed Heero didn't pick up his cutlery. He kept staring down at his plate, his food untouched except for the few bites he had taken before the awkward conversation.

"Lost your appetite, brother?" I asked. Given Cameron's and Tabytha's presence I was confident he would answer me, to keep up pretenses.

"I wasn't that hungry to begin with," He answered and he looked at Cameron to ask: "May I be excused? I'm quite tired."

Cameron's eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course. Tabytha will wrap your dinner and put it in the fridge, you can heat it up later."

Tabytha started to get out of her seat to do as we she was, indirectly, told, but paused her motions when Heero assured her with flat voice: "That is not necessary. I won't be hungry later tonight either." Then he left.

I stared at the archway to the kitchen through which he had disappeared, pondering the meaning behind it all. Heero's parents didn't seem to share my concerns in the least. Cameron wasted no time digging into his food, Tabytha gingerly placed the embroidered napkin back in her lap and pricked some salad onto her fork. Inwardly I questioned if they didn't notice Heero was upset, or if they didn't care. Or maybe a combination of both: maybe they didn't care enough about him at all to notice.

To speed the process of dinner along I hurriedly shuffled the finely prepared food into my mouth in much the same way I would work my way through a large fries and a cheeseburger in any given diner, on the road with my mom. I caught my father and his wife looking at me with their forks halfway up to their mouths, somewhat perturbed by the haste and indelicate way in which I consumed my meal. When the plate was practically clean, I asked to be excused as well.

Before giving me permission Cameron noted sarcastically: "You must have been hungry." As blind as he appeared to be to Heero's inner issues, he looked to be suspicious of me.

I shrugged and was then cordially allowed to leave the dinner table. I didn't care to spend any more time in their cold presence.

My bed invited me to drop face down onto it. I wondered what would be the best way for me to spend the weekend. I had already been given an opportunity to search the house, but maybe a second look couldn't hurt, I didn't have much more back ground information to work with on my search, but maybe knowing what little I did could help me along in finding the answers. Mostly I was aching for the opportunity to snoop around my 'brother's' room. I didn't doubt he had some skeletons in his closet and as intelligent as he was, he was probably far less cunning than his picture perfect adoptive parents at keeping secrets.

Knowing him a little better than I did when I first came here, I did get an uneasy feeling at planning to break into his room, mostly because I could easily imagine how angry and betrayed I would feel if someone came into my room without permission and found the treasured photo-album my mother had left me. But I justified my immoral plans by reminding myself that I had the right to know what kind of family I had been thrust into. If they weren't going to give me information voluntarily, I had no choice but to make things happen myself.

Heero was more stoic and tense the rest of that week than I had ever seen him. I saw him in the hallway of the school as we moved between classrooms and a kid bumped his shoulder into him. Heero completely froze up, causing a pile-up of student behind him, like a traffic jam. Even after he got pushed out of the way by a particularly large girl he seemed immobile. I was about to walk up to him – more to investigate than anything else, I had myself convinced – but I stopped halfway and decided to blend back into the crowd before he could see me. I scolded myself as I let the current of student bodies push me down the corridor, past Heero. He may have been a dick to me, but that was no excuse to treat him the same way.

It was apparent that this impending father-and-son-trip was making Heero edgy. During boring classes and dull family dinners I imagined dark and unspeakable explanations, but I knew I couldn't trust my imagination. Being a young man that grew up in the passenger seat of an old truck that had no working radio, cutting through God's more uninspired work in terms of landscaping, my imagination tended to be over the top and surreal, albeit vivid as a way of escapism. A guy in a particular car could pass us by with only a fleeting glance and I would spend the rest of the day fantasizing about his life, in startling, dark detail. No one could sue me for being a glass-half-empty kind of guy.

I had to discover the truth.

That Friday afternoon the build-up had left me anxious. I wasn't really sure what significant thing I expected to unearth, given that I had already had a fairly unsuccessful rummage through the house, but I was hopeful this was my shot.

Tabytha had already left while I had still been in school. When I came back to the house, the black motorcycle had been rolled out of the garage and parked on the driveway, causing me to raise my eyebrows, briefly marveling at the machine I had previously only been able to admire in the dramatic shadows of the garage. I moved my hand to touch the leather seat, but paused at a bellowing voice.

"Please don't."

I turned and watched Cameron approach me, a smile perfectly in place. With a more subdued tone he offered: "If you want the two of us can go for a trip someday."

I retreated my hand. The offer did not entice me, not with the way Heero had been tense and almost frightful the past days.

Cameron's clothes were uncannily casual; dark jeans, a grey T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He didn't look like himself, I noted as I scrutinized him.

He hunched over and fastened the saddle bags he had been carrying to the motorcycle in preparation of the trip, ignoring me as I stared.

"So where are you going?"

"Upstate. We have a cabin. You know this," He said, clearly a little annoyed, but he flashed me a smile over his shoulder with the vain intention of undoing his blatant irritation.

"Right, fishing." I nodded to the saddle bags, clearly only packed with clothes and the likes. "Where's the gear?"

Cameron took a deep breath and slowly straightened up, turning to face me. His lips bore a smile, but his eyes were dull. "We keep our fishing gear at the cabin," he replied impatiently.

"Cool." I shrugged and walked off, but made mental note of the tense and awkward interaction and that I had probably just been lied to.

Cameron called after me: "I'll definitely take you up to the cabin someday!"

I halted and looked back at him with a frown. He chuckled, shook his head and bent back down to make sure the bags were secure. Why did I suddenly feel like I had been threatened? I turned to continue my way back into the house and walked straight into Heero.

He flinched and jumped away from me and dropped the two helmets he had been carrying to the ground.

"Sorry," I reached down to pick them up but he swatted my hands away and got them himself.

"I don't need your help," he hissed at me, the first words he had said to me in days, "And if you know what's good for you, you won't try." He pushed past me towards Cameron.

I frowned, not really sure what he meant with that but knowing it went beyond helping him pick up the helmets. I watched 'my brother' approach Cameron, looking decidedly less casual than his adoptive father, in his usual ill-fitting slacks and oversized button-up shirt. Without making eye-contact he handed him the helmet and then pulled his own over his head.

Before Cameron put on his helmet he addressed me: "There is plenty of food and we left some money on the kitchen table, so you can order in pizza if you'd like. We'll be back Sunday afternoon."

I offered a halfhearted wave. "Have a good time. Fishing."

He nodded, put on his helmet and mounted the bike. Heero followed his lead, his hands seeking purchase on the handlebars on either side of the seat. Cameron revved the engine twice and then the two of them sped off.

I stared down the street long after they were out of sight, genuinely confused. Was I just imagining things or was that really twisted and suspicious as hell?

I shrugged off that uneasy feeling that had overcome me and headed into the house. With no time like the present, I immediately started my hunt for the key to Heero's room. An obvious place to start was his backpack. I rummaged through that thing three or four times, but it turned out to be too obvious. Empty-handed I stepped into the garage and eyed the winding staircase to the locked door. Then I looked around myself and my gaze fell on the work bench at the far end where everything was perfectly organized. Too perfectly. I had long figured the work bench was Heero's, so he could do his little science experiments and bring home the trophies that earned him at least some recognition in the household.

I froze when I heard a car and waited and heaved a sigh of relief when it just passed by. I opened the drawers one by one, disturbed – more than anything – that all the tools and equipment were carefully sorted and stored. I realized I had to take care not to move anything. Heero seemed like the kind of anal-retentive psycho that would notice if something was minutely out of place. So my curses were properly colorful when, during my search, my focus had been so dedicated to the task at hand that I failed to notice the open box of nails on the corner until I felt my elbow bump into it. I watched – almost with comical horror – as the box fell and the hundreds of nails scattered across the concrete floor. I knew I had to retrieve every single one of them if I intended to leave no trace. I knelt down on the floor and started the tedious task of gathering them all back up in the box, scouring the concrete floor for runaways. As my gaze scanned the surroundings for any remaining nails that I may have missed, my eyes caught sight of something unusual and my attention was drawn to the underside of the workbench. Taped to the underside, far back enough to go announced by anyone - who wasn't incidentally squatting on the floor – was a small box, not unlike the box of nails. It was taped sideways, so it made a tiny, secret shelf underneath the workbench, hidden in the dark shadows.

"You've got to be kidding me." I reached up and slipped my fingers into the box, which appeared to be empty. A grin spread across my face when my fingertips encountered the irregular edge of a key. I produced the object from its hiding place with a near maniacal cackle. However, a sudden dread and sinking feeling quieted me. I was hit with an unpleasant mixture of feeling like a creep as well as feeling fear of what might happen if Heero would ever find out I violated him like that.

In the end though, sheer curiosity overshadowed my doubts. Heero was such a mystery to me, I hated that, I ached to know him better, although I couldn't really explain why. It went beyond trying to understand this weird family. I guessed I just needed to believe and see proof that he wasn't just a superior asshole. More than anything I needed an ally in this alternate dimension I had been dropped into and he seemed like my best – albeit still unlikely – chance at a sidekick.

At the top of the staircase I bit my lip in a final moment of hesitation and then with a twist of the key and the doorknob the door was opened. I peeked inside tentatively, like Heero was going to jump out at me and yell: "Boo!"

The room was enormous, with the apex of the angled roof high above my head. The décor was bland and impersonal. Beige carpet, white walls and yellow pine furniture; a double bed, a long stretched desk and a TV stand. Not a single photograph or decorative element. With the mobile whiteboard with complicated mathematical formulas by the bathroom door and the extreme level of organization the room had a very mad-scientist-psychopath feel to it. It was a disappointment because evidently I wasn't going to glean much information from the space, but it did bring back that uneasy feeling, that settled deep in my gut. I felt like I was fifteen minutes into a horror movie; the monster hadn't revealed itself yet, but you knew something was off. I could almost hear the ominous music in the background.

I suddenly laughed at myself. "My imagination is getting the better of me again," I said, echoing the words my mother often spoke jokingly. At least I didn't have to feel guilty about invading his privacy. There was nothing personal about the room, nothing that anyone would require to be private. All I found in his desk drawers were school papers and all I found in his closet were his poorly tailored items of clothing.

A frown broke the smile that was in the wake of my laughter. There really wasn't anything private. So why would he lock the door?

Just for the sake of being thorough I opened the door the bathroom and stepped inside. I flicked on the light to reveal the clinical, all white space. A bathtub, a separate shower, a toilet and a sink had all been crammed into the little space. Everything was immaculate.

Curiously I looked to the left, at the sink. My eyes trailed upward, my frown deepening. As in any bathroom there was a – large – mirror over the sink, but even though I was standing right in front of it, there was no reflection. The entire mirror was a near opaque white, with not the tiniest sliver or a single corner left clear. It was covered in soap residue. Someone must have rubbed a bar of soap up and down the surface of the mirror, whitening it out.

No, not someone. Heero.

He can't stand his own reflection, I concluded, staring at the opaque pane of glass.

My heart thudded. I was scared. I was scared my imaginations were not – for once – an exaggeration. Clearly this went beyond cutesy socially awkward, something was really haunting Heero and somehow he could see it in his own reflection. I pitied him, even though I knew he would hate me for it.

I aborted my search and hurried back downstairs, putting the key and the box of nails back where I found them and stepping out of the garage with a shudder. I realized my quest to find something to throw in Cameron's face and humiliate him would probably unearth something much more serious. Something bad must have happened in Heero's past, before he was adopted, probably. But that had been years ago, why would he still be at a point where he can't stand the sight of himself? That mirror couldn't be just about the past, there was more to it. I couldn't put my finger on it – or maybe I just didn't dare to – but something was wrong. More than ever I believed Cameron did me a favor by leaving me and my mom.

I was determined to find out exactly how bad of a father Cameron was and once I had exposed the truth, I would make sure both Heero and I would be free of his reign.


	8. Chapter 8

**Brothers**

**Chapter Eight**

It was nine thirty, Sunday night, when my mind was pulled out of the fantasy world of the book I had been reading by the deep rumble of an engine. cutting through the quiet suburban neighborhood like a growling bear maneuvering through the forest. I shot up from the bed and was in front of the window just in time to see the motorcycle turn onto the driveway and come to a sudden halt next to the two parked cars.

Tabytha had come home earlier in the afternoon, practically bouncing up and down and boring me with details of the upcoming wedding that I wasn't even interested in to begin with. As far as I know she had already gone to bed, after what she described to be a busy but successful weekend.

I spied through the opening between the curtains and watched Heero – they were unrecognizable with their helmets on, but I knew Heero would be the one sitting on the back – get off with stiff movements, his hands seeking support on Cameron's shoulders. Once he stood next to the bike his balance wavered and he would have fallen backwards onto the immaculate lawn if it hadn't been for Cameron's gloved hand reaching out for his forearm and steadying him with a tight grip. Assured his son wouldn't topple over again the father let go of him and reached into his pocket for the remote control of the garage door. I heard the noise, muffled through the walls, as the door rolled back and I pressed my cheek against the window pane to follow Cameron with my eyes as he pushed the bike into the garage, trailed by a slow-moving Heero.

As soon as they were out of sight I hurried downstairs, walking past the closed door of the master bedroom where Tabytha had retreated over an hour ago, not invested enough to stay up to await the safe return of her husband and adoptive son.

I stormed into the kitchen at the exact same moment Cameron walked in through the door. I stopped and pretended I hadn't come racing down. Acting casual I greeted him with a drawl and headed for the fridge. The light that went on automatically as I ripped the door open barely lit the room and cast long, dark shadows. "How was your fishing trip?" I asked.

Cameron closed the door to the garage and flicked on the lights. He looked tired but his grin was one of satisfaction. "It was wonderful."

I took a sip from the carton of milk and kept my eyes on him in suspicion as he walked up to me and then reached around me to retrieve a chilled can of beer from the refrigerator. "How was your weekend?"

I shrugged. "Fine."

He nodded absent-mindedly, taking a swig of his beer and he started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Isn't Heero coming in?" I wondered, pointedly looking at the closed door to the garage.

"He was tired. He went straight to bed. He- We didn't get much sleep. We stayed up late and got up early every morning, to fish."

"Right," I took another thoughtful sip from the carton. "To fish."

"Goodnight, Duo." He walked away.

"Goodnight…" I put the milk back and contemplated going up to Heero's bedroom door with some lame excuse so I could find out what was going on, but a frightened, nervous feeling stopped me. I had the sinking feeling that all my questions would have unwanted answers, answers that would leave me feeling sick, and even though I never shied away from prying, even at my own expense, I was uncharacteristically reluctant. I switched off the lights and found my way back upstairs. I slowed my pace in the hallway and loitered outside the door to the master bedroom. There was no sound to be heard, even though Cameron had just gone in there. He had probably decided not to wake his wife, not even to say hello after being apart all weekend.

I went back into my room and sat on the bed with my knees drawn up to my chest. I chewed on the tip of my thumb as I reviewed the information available to me. All my knowledge was vague and incomplete. All I had were my own concerns and fear. Really, I had no solid evidence anything sordid was going on in the household. But I couldn't shake that feeling, that feeling of being an unsuspecting viewer to a drama about to unfold. But this drama wasn't going to unfold itself, it was curled up tightly in its own secrecy. I would have to actively pull at the loose ends to get anything concrete freed and out into the open.

I had to be prepared for the consequences. They could very well be worse than my overactive mind could predict.

The next morning was not unlike most others. When I came downstairs, with only five minutes to spare before I would have to head to school, Cameron, Tabytha and Heero were seated at the breakfast table in the kitchen. The men were hidden behind their preferred newspaper sections. Tabytha, upon seeing me, got up and served me French toast.

"Good morning," She chirped.

"Good morning." I took my seat, my eyes darting back and forth between the financial section – Cameron – and the back of the science section – Heero. Neither of them responded.

"Don't mind the boys," Tabytha remarked, "They go two days without a newspaper and they think they come back to a different world that they must explore and dissect all over again." She nodded in dismay at the recycled paper their hands held in front of their faces. "As if they ever write anything new in there. It's all the same, every day. More depressing news. Recession, corruption, civil unrest, earthquakes… I do not understand why anybody would want to start their day reading about those sorts of things. Even those 'Medical marvels' are always more disgusting than they are impressive."

"Sure…" I agreed noncommittally.

Heero and I left for school without exchanging a single word – he wouldn't even return my glances. I wouldn't see him again until Physics at the end of the day. But I knew he would just ignore me then too.

When I walked into my final class of the day Heero was already sitting at our shared table. He was hunched over a thick textbook that I didn't think was mandatory reading for the class. Three young men surrounded him, crowded him, leaning over him. One of them was the kid that had gotten into trouble with the teacher before for making a comment regarding the incident between Heero and the P.E. teacher, but the teacher hadn't arrived at the classroom yet. The three were leering at him and the few other students in the room just watched, amused. Heero didn't seem to care to much, he was focused on his reading. However, when one of them grabbed the book and yanked it away from him Heero shot up from his seat, knocking the stool backwards. The dangerous glare he sported had the threesome backing up, if only a little.

"Don't touch my things! Don't ever touch my things!" He yelled hoarsely at the tall kid mockingly holding his textbook out of his reach.

I had been ready to jump in to come to Heero's aid, but seeing that glare ofhis I sprinted forward to protect the three classmates. It was not apparent to them, but it was clear to me that Heero was about to cause some serious harm. My 'little brother' would only get in trouble, I didn't want that. I was behind the kid holding the book in a flash and easily snatched it out of his loose grip.

"Don't bother," I told him, casually flipping through the pages. "You wouldn't be able to understand a single thing it says."

The boy turned around and glared at me.

"Big brother to the rescue," One of the other's spat sarcastically, evoking laughter.

I paid them no heed and held the book out to Heero. He yanked it out of my hands like I had been the one who had stolen it from him.

"Don't touch my things," He warned me as well, his voice low and menacing.

"I was just handing it back to you, ungrateful twat," I defended myself, unnerved by Heero's glare.

One of the guys mimicked a hissing cat, then laughed.

"I don't need your help!"

Our quarrel bored the other three and they moved away to pester someone else until the teacher entered the classroom, barking orders: "Sit down! Open your textbook! You better pick up that spitball right now, young man!"

Heero and I tensely sat down next to each other. What was it with him that he could irk me so much I forgot all about my pity and my best intentions? He was frustrating beyond comprehension!

I spent the hour quietly doodling in my notebook while Heero eagerly answered all the teacher's questions as new material was discussed. Everyone was rolling their eyes at Heero's inexplicable enthusiasm regarding the class, I was tempted to as well.

After class, once I had calmed down, I approached Heero, catching up with his as he hurried to his after-school meeting of the chess-club, navigating abandoned halls as students poured out of the front gate until soon we seemed to be the only ones left. "Did you have a nice weekend?" I inquired dryly as I rushed after him.

"Why are you following me?" He shot back.

"Maybe I want to join the chess-club."

Not aware I was being sarcastic, he cast a poorly veiled surprised look over his shoulder as he continued to speed through the corridors. "You play?"

I grinned and deadpanned: "No."

Heero groaned at being fooled. "Then what do you want from me?"

"I want to know about your weekend."

He stopped, so suddenly that I ran into him. Before I could distance myself he turned around and pushed me away. His eyes were wild. "Why?"

I shrugged. "It just seems like something a brother would ask about."

Heero scoffed. "Then don't bother. We are not brothers."

"Fine. Then I am asking as a friend."

He let out a single, bitter laugh that sent chills down my spine. "Friends?"

"It was worth a shot."

He took a step closer to me and even though he was significantly shorter than me, I felt intimidated. "You are proving yourself to be quite unintelligent, so I'll explain it to you again. You being Cameron's son and living in my house, doesn't make us brothers. You nagging me constantly and supposedly chivalrously standing up for me doesn't make us friends," He seethed. "I don't want you in my life. And I don't want you to touch my things."

I let out a nervous chuckle. "Dude, I was just getting you your book back, I-"

"You were in my room!" He yelled abruptly, aggressively.

"I-" I had no truthful defense and my mind was too shocked to come up with a clever deceit.

"You bothersome cretin! You think I wouldn't notice? The key had been moved when I got back. I knew I should have taken it with me!"

Bothersome cretin? I would have laughed if not for the fact that his intense demeanor seriously frightened me.

"You had no right to enter my room! You had no right to touch my things! They are mine and I don't want to share them with you!"

"I'm sorry. Calm down."

"No!" With powerful hands he pushed me back again. "What did you find? What did you see?"

I raised my hands in surrender. "Look, I didn't rummage through drawers or cabinets or anything. I was just in your room."

"Where you were not allowed to be!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I stepped back as it looked like he was about to sock me. Behind him I could see curious faces poking out of the single lit classroom. The members of the chess-club looked at us in fascination. I glared at them. "Mind your own goddamn business!"

Heero whipped his head around just in time to see them cower back inside the classroom and close the door. He turned back to me and hissed: "Exactly. Mind your own goddamn business." He walked away with angry stomps, ripping the door of the classroom open and slamming it shut behind him.

I cursed under my breath and lingered in the hallway, in complete shock. I had expected Heero to be angry if he would find out that I was in his room, but to be confronted with the reality of his wrath was quite a different thing, something I hadn't been prepared for. Clearly it would be a long, traitorous road to earn back Heero's trust, if I ever could, which would make it damn near impossible to find out the truth about the imperfection of the Maxwell-family that I had inadvertently become a part of. That pissed me off more than anything and I was made all the more angry because it had been my own damn fault. I shouldn't have gone snooping, I had traded whatever slow headway I was making with Heero, for nothing more than a single glance around his room. I could have gleaned more information from him than his private quarters and belongings. The mirror had been an interesting discovery but only posed more questions as opposed to providing me with some answers.

With my hands tucked into my pockets I walked back to the house, guilt-ridden. In the silence of the journey I started to feel bad for getting Heero so upset. Clearly the boy was having a hard enough time as it was without me seemingly making his life more difficult. I imagined Heero needed an ally in that distorted household, but all I had proved myself to be was a traitor. Could I redeem myself after betraying his trust? For him to leave the key behind rather than taking it with him, as he said he knew he should have, must have meant that for the sake of a tiny sliver of hope he was giving me the benefit of the doubt. Consciously or not, he had been testing me. And I had failed.

No one else was at the house so I fixed myself a snack that surely Tabytha would not approve of so near to dinner time, and snuck it upstairs. After eating my fill I moped around, did my homework and surfed the web – unchecked thanks to Heero's program. I googled Cameron's name, like I had several times before, but all I ever found were raving articles about how this unexpected 'savior' turned around the family business that he had married into. He was a 'savagely clever businessman', a 'generous contributor' to the campaigns of police chiefs, mayors and even senators of his preference, an 'unsung philanthropist' and, above all, a 'good, old-fashioned family man'; respectable and admirable in every regard. It was a pretty balloon that I wanted to stab with a kitchen knife, over and over again, even after it had long deflated. I found only brief mentions of my mother as a 'previous marriage that he could not make work' and the articles painted a picture of a wronged man, abandoned by his wife who took his only son from him.

"What an ass…" I remarked, getting angry all over again. I shut the laptop – hating that is was a gift from him – and pulled out the photo-album from its hiding place, bringing it into my lap. As far as I was concerned the album was the only thing I could trust to be truthful. Everything else was censored by Cameron, apparently.

I wished my mother would have told me more about him as I had gotten older; told me of dark and embarrassing secrets that he surely had, even back then. Normal dads don't walk away from their family, closeted skeletons had to be involved in his decision to leave us behind so promptly.

For him to spin the truth like that to his own benefit, to make people sympathize with him, disgusted me. My mother and I lived a nomadic life of poverty and for what reason? Who knew? Apparently he had the whole city, if not the whole state in his pocket, couldn't he have made us seem like the perfect little family, with the same trickery and deceit he used to disguise the truth of the current Maxwell-clan?

I stared at that first picture, of me blowing out the candles on my improvised birthday cake, in some hole-in-the-wall diner in the middle of nowhere that we happened to pass through. I had never suspected that the life I had with my mom, spent on the road, mostly hungry and unshowered, was better than the alternative. What I had been through with my mother certainly wasn't easy, but at least I didn't need to submit to the compulsion to soap up the bathroom mirror because I couldn't stand the sight of my own reflection.

Leafing through the pages I stopped every time there was someone other than my mom in the pictures with me. In the beginning some friends of the old life bothered to meet up with us as we aimlessly travelled throughout the country, zigzagging up and down from the West coast to the East coast and back again. I was too young to remember most of them, after a few years more and more friends bailed. No explanation was giving, they just stopped meeting us at whatever motel we happened to stay in and my mother would never say their name again and as a result I would quickly forget those names and soon thereafter their faces. Constantly travelling, you learn to deal very quickly with the coming and going of people. You don't get too excited when they enter your life and you don't the mourn the loss too long when they leave. I never missed them, until now, coming to realize that they could have told me more about Cameron from before he split, that could have provided clues for what was going on.

Only one face was recurring, the lined face of an old friend of my mother, thinning, greying hair framing a full face that was set with sparkling eyes; eyes that made all the difference, the way diamonds enhance an otherwise plain ring. In the picture, where I was only twelve years old, she was wearing a burgundy cardigan she had knit herself and she had wrapped it around us both, to keep us warm as we stood outside in the snow and watched the fireworks on New Year's Eve.

Her name was Robby – or rather, I doubted her name was actually Robby, but it was a nickname of some kind that we always called her by, probably derived from Robin, or Roberta, or something of the likes. My mother had met her not long before Cameron took off that one day. Maybe that is why Robby always managed to stay friends with us, unlike the others she didn't really know us as 'wife of Cameron' or 'son of Cameron', so maybe it was easier for her to forget about him the way my mom wanted it. All the other people always seemed to want to talk about him, much to my mother's annoyance.

My mother wrote her a letter on her deathbed – what she wrote exactly she never told me – and talked a nurse into bringing the letter to the post office. I had offered to it, but she hadn't wanted me to leave her side for even a single moment, it was when every breath could be her least and whereas I secretly wouldn't have minded to not be there to watch her take it, she needed me there. She told me I had to mourn her death before that last breath would hitch in her throat, because as soon as she was gone I had to go. The instructions had been clear. Go. Run. Don't look back. Don't let them find you. Don't let them take you to him.

I felt horrible for failing to live up to her dying wish, for there I was, in his house.

"Robby… Robby… Robby…" I repeated the name, hoping the sound would spark the memory of her actual name. I was certain I had known it at some point, it had always been more or less an inside joke that we called her 'Robby'.

To satisfy my curiosity I carefully took the picture out of the album – there was a small chance her name was written on the back -, unhooking the corners where it was held in place on the page. I stared at her kind face one more time and then turned the image over.

"Ruby Borges, 1953," I read aloud. I squinted at my mother's failing penmanship. She must have only thought to write the name when she was near the end, when her hand-eye coordination was so poor she could hardly do anything. I wondered why the name was important enough to add after the fact. More puzzlingly, why would she write down a date that clearly wasn't the date of the moment in the picture, my mother hadn't even been born then, let alone me. It seemed reasonable that it was Ruby's birth year, but why was that relevant?

With a frown on my face I turned back the pages to the very first, where my mother had written her message for me. I read it again.

" 'I hope you will never lose your curiosity and inquisitiveness, I hope you will use them to discover more things, to seek more answers'…" Maybe she had expected I would one day desire the answers to questions regarding Cameron that she had always refused to give me and maybe Ruby – Robby – was the person to ask.

With a shrug I reached for the laptop. I tried social media sites first, but when the results had been significantly narrowed down and I scrolled past the profile pictures, no one looked to be a match. Considering her age, that wasn't too surprising. Next I opened an online directory. I typed in the name and the state, New York, where I hoped she still lived. The search yielded two results of people with the exact same name, but they were not of the right age. I browsed for a different directory and came across one with advanced search options that included year of birth and place of birth – which I gambled to be the state of New York, after all, if she hadn't lived in that state at one point, how could she have met my mother?

After a dutiful process of elimination I ended up with a single result: Ruby Borges, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Even though she would have moved across state lines, it seemed reasonable that that was her.

I wrote down the listed number for later, just as Tabytha called from downstairs to announce dinner was ready. I shouldn't call the woman on my cellphone anyway, for all I knew Cameron could have the device bugged, the way he attempted to spy on me via the laptop he had given me.

Sitting at the table was uncomfortable as ever, with a tense atmosphere filled with forced niceties. Occasionally Heero would look up at me, his eyes throwing daggers that stung in my chest and bled my heart but in the meantime we maintained the pretense that we were getting along better every day and Heero was so devoted to the charade he even joined me upstairs in my room after dinner for a little while. All the while stone-walling me of course, regardless of how often I apologized.

The next morning after school I took a detour home, walking by the local train station. It was indicated online that the train station was still equipped with old-fashioned payphones.

It all felt very clandestine, walking into the train station, eyeing the crowd, searching for the payphones. In a silly way it was kind of exciting.

I got a strange look from an employee when I asked him where I could find the payphones. Clearly he wasn't asked that question very often and it was obvious why, most people rushing through the building either had their phone to their ears or pressed up against their noses. But with a confused frown he pointed me in the right direction.

Standing in front of the phone I produced the piece of paper with the phone number from my pocket.

With my fingers on the dials, I stopped. My hands were suddenly sweaty and I wasn't excited anymore, I wasn't thinking of funny spy-movie parallels. I was thinking about my mother. This woman had been my mother's friend, the kind of friend you write letters to on your deathbed. I hadn't seen Ruby since a few months before my mother's condition worsened to the point where she had to be hospitalized and where she would die a short while later. If I called her, surely she would want to talk about my mother; talk about her life; talk about her death; talk about my feelings regarding it all.

I wasn't ready for that.

More than anything I had been ignoring those thoughts and feelings as I didn't know how to deal with them. I had been in survival mode. I didn't want to think about the loss, much less talk about it, but how could I not if I were to make that call?

I stuffed the paper back into my pocket and popped the collar of my jacket to shield myself from an imagined chill that left me shivering.

Disappointed in myself, but resigning to fact that I wasn't ready to chase those questions at such an emotional cost, I started heading back to the house. Back in my room I hid the paper in the photo album. I knew I wouldn't be able to call her until the pain of not having all the answers was greater than the pain of losing my mother. Considering that the latter was quite an overpowering kind of hurt, I accepted that it might take me while. I eased my guilt at not being able to go through with it with the thought that if my mother had been convinced there was any kind of urgency to the matter, she would have told me to call her old friend, as opposed to leaving a hidden clue in the album.

Left to my own devices, I had to get Heero to warm up to me. I didn't know how to do that other than being the least annoying I could possibly be when I was around him, giving him a wide, respectful berth and adhering to the rules he submitted our interactions to: no talking unless in the presence of Cameron to maintain the ruse, no touching him nor his things – not even pick up his pen for him when he accidentally drops it to the floor - and complete dedication to our joined assignments for Physics.

It wasn't until two weeks after the fishing trip that he seemed to notice the change in my attitude.

We were in my bedroom. I was sitting on the bed, mindlessly browsing the web and Heero was sitting at my desk, studying of course.

Out of the blue he turned in the seat and observed: "You seem less obnoxious than usual."

I shrugged, even though I mentally patted myself on the back for a small victory. After all, it was the closest thing to a compliment he had given me.

"Why?" Heero wondered suspiciously.

Since he was asking me yet another question he must be expecting a verbal answer, which I took as permission to speak. "I'm just trying to do what it takes for you to consider me your friend."

He scoffed and turned his attention back to his work, but I couldn't help but notice he stayed in my room longer that evening than he ever had and I took it as another small victory.

The progress I had been making would be tested another three weeks later when we were all expected to attend the third wedding of the aunt I had never even met. Tabytha had announced a week beforehand that we would be spending the entire weekend in a hotel up North for the event and the aunt had reserved two rooms in the hotel; one for Tabytha and Cameron and one for Heero and I. The tension was particularly palpable that week.

I stared out the window as we travelled up the highway to our destination. The drive had been quiet for the past hour save the soft music playing on the radio. Classic songs; all violins and choirs going "Oooohhh" and "Aaaahhh". Not my kind of music at all but I had been warned not to put in my ear plugs and listen to the 'garbled noise' that I called music.

"You are quiet, Duo," Cameron started.

How observant.

"Are you nervous?" His tone was mocking but no one else in the car seemed to notice.

"Nope. Just enjoying the music."

Cameron snorted softly, aware of my blatant lie. However, Tabytha ignorantly remarked: "Now see? And you would have missed it if we had let you listen to the same old music you always listen to."

"Yeah, totally…" I looked over to Heero, seated next to me in the back of the car. He purposefully had his face fully turned away and he was leaning his body against the car door, to distance himself as far from me as possible. He held his backpack protectively against his body, like a shield. The thing was heavy with books, he insisted that he had to do homework this weekend. I suspected it had been an attempt to be allowed to stay at the house, rather than coming with us to the wedding, but in the end he had to take his books with him because there were no valid excuses to miss the festivities, as far as Tabytha and Cameron were concerned.

We drove upstate for four hours through monotonous green landscape dotted with towns that the highway gently curved around. When we finally came to a stop it was in front of an old inn; a stately manor in the midst of tall trees, with a wooden patio overlooking the stream that ran right by the large, solitude building. The front porch was decorated with white balloons and golden ribbons being tousled by the wind. There was a separate building to the side, a converged barn, that laborers were carrying tables, chairs and decorations into.

"Isn't this place just lovely?" Tabytha asked as we all got out of the car.

Cameron agreed unenthusiastically, looking around with a calculating gaze, his hands on his hips as he stretched his back after the long drive.

"It is such a blessing that they were able to accommodate us on such short notice. Come, let me show you the reception hall-"

"Tabytha," Cameron interrupted before she started to wobble towards the barn on her impossibly high heels, "I think it's best if we look for our rooms first."

"Right, right." She waved over one of the men that had been working on getting the barn ready for the reception.

He gave her an odd look but he approached her nonetheless, albeit cautiously.

"Hello there," She purred. "Could you be a doll and help us with our luggage?"

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. We are all very busy with the wedding preparations. Perhaps someone at the front desk can help you."

"But then we would still have to carry our luggage all the way inside," She mewled pathetically.

Cameron sighed and walked up to the two of them, delving one hand into the pocket of his beige slacks. He took out his wallet and produced paper cash. "For your trouble."

The worker seemed to accept the money more to get it over with than actually wanting it. Glowering he approached the trunk of the car and hoisted the straps of our bags over his shoulders.

I hurried to get my own bag. I didn't need him to carry him, nor did I want him to. I shot him an apologetic look.

Heero snatched his duffel bag from the man's hand before he could sling it over his shoulder and walked away without a word.

The man blew his bangs out of his face and followed us inside. At the front desk we received keys to our rooms and directions upstairs. An employee offered to help with the bags, but the man carrying them said it was alright and he started up the two flights of stairs to our rooms on the top floor of the mansion.

Our rooms were identical and right next to each other. The interior was old fashioned with a lot of polished wood and busy patterns on wallpapers, seat cushions and bed sheets. Two single beds were on opposite ends of the room. Neither Tabytha nor Cameron made a complain about not having a bed they could share, they seemed fine with the separate twin beds.

I walked in and unceremoniously dumped my stuff on one of the beds.

Heero remained standing in the middle of the room, looking uncertain.

"What? Did you want this one?" I gestured at my bed of choice.

"No," He spat. He neatly placed his bags by the other bed and then inspected the small bathroom.

Cameron appeared in the doorway to the hallway and startled me with his deep voice. "Tabytha is going to show me around. The rest of the family will be arriving later. Stay in your room and rest, you need to be well-rested for the rehearsal dinner tonight." He left and shut the door behind him.

"Fucking control freak…"

Heero stalked out of the bathroom announcing: "We should establish rules."

I quirked an eyebrow. "I'm waiting…"

"For what?"

"The punchline to your joke."

He stared at me with blank eyes.

"You're serious?" I asked incredulously. I sat back on the bed and folded my arms in front of my chest. "Alright… what kind of rules did you have in mind?"

"You don't touch any of my things," He started adamantly. "Lights out and quiet at ten o'clock in the evening. I prefer to shower before going to bed. You can shower in the morning. But only after you've given me the chance to go the bathroom and brush my teeth. We keep the room tidy, I don't want to look at your clutter all day and we make our beds in the morning. Also, I need to study, so no music or noisy computer-games. Do you have anything to add?"

I shook my head at him. "Yeah… You're crazy."

He seemed unfazed by the insult and proceeded to unpack his bags, placing his neatly folded clothes in the closet and arranging his books on the desk between the two bed in neat stacks organized by subject, lining his pencils perpendicular to the edge of the desk.

"Now hold on a second, why do you get the desk?"

He threw a look over his shoulder. "You didn't bring any books."

"I brought my laptop."

Heero rolled his eyes and turned away. "You always take your laptop in your lap in bed anyway."

"Because you always hog the desk!" I argued, more to tease him than anything else.

"Well, I need the space to spread out my books and notes." His childlike reluctance to let me have the desk was kind of endearing and I found myself smirking as I watched him fidget with his collection of pencils.

"Maybe we could share the desk, there are two chairs." As soon as the words dropped from my lips I knew I had made a mistake. 'Sharing' was a kind of trigger word for Heero, a word that he seemed to despise more than any other, even more than the nasty things the kids at school were calling him – behind his back and to his face.

"I don't want to share!" He burst, every last bit about him that had been endearing evaporated in the heat of his sudden anger and intolerance.

"Fine. Okay. Okay," I tried to appease him. "You can have the desk. It's fine."

He calmed down but I could still see extreme tension in his neck and his white-knuckled fists at his sides.

To give him some space to calm his frazzled nerves I excused myself and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I heaved a deep sigh.

After a long drive the need to take a leak was high so I relieved myself. Once I flushed the toilet and turned around to wash my hands in the sink I stilled and my heart skipped a beat. One of the dark blue towels provided by the staff had been draped over the oval mirror above the sink to cover its reflective surface.

Shit, I thought to myself, this kid is so fucked up.

I washed my hands and splashed some cool water in my face. Gripping my fingers around the edge of the sink I let my head hang forward and watched thick droplets fall from my bangs onto the white porcelain. I wished I could help Heero, I somehow felt it was my responsibility to try – even though I wasn't really his big brother. But I felt completely in over my head. This wasn't the kind of kid that just needed a good laugh and a pat on the back; he needed serious help. The kind of help I could hardly provide him with. I wondered why Tabytha, Cameron, or someone at school had never realized the seriousness of whatever deep-seated psychological issue he was dealing with. The possibility that Cameron, for whatever reason, didn't want Heero to get the help he needed, appeared likely to me. Whatever happened to Heero before he was adopted and afterwards that had caused him to be so overprotective of his things and so self-loathing, nobody in his life – not even Heero himself – seemed invested enough to help him manage the effects of what he had been through.

Heero may be a difficult person to like, but it was impossible not to pity him and not to feel for him. I knew what it was like to carry the weight of demons on your back, it was crippling if there was no one there for you to share the load, like my mother had always been there for me.

I stepped back out into the bedroom and discovered Heero had seated himself at his desk and was busily studying. I flopped down on my bed, careful not to crush my bag with the laptop inside, and laced my fingers underneath my head as I got comfortable, staring up at the ceiling.

The sound of Heero's pencil scratching on the paper as he jotted down the information he gleaned from his beloved books, lulled me to sleep. I was used to sharing a room with someone else – with my mother- I liked the sounds people made when they were just minding their own business; their breathing, writing, scratching the back of their head, the rustling of their clothes with each movement. It was a comfort to me to know I was not alone, a comfort that allowed me to sleep.

It was dinner time by the time I was rudely awoken by a fist rapping on the door of our room.

I shot upright in bed and it was my sudden movement, more than the sound at the door, that startled Heero, who jumped in his seat.

Cameron opened the door without waiting for permission to enter.

"Get ready boys," He instructed. "Dinner is in half an hour. Everyone is here." He left as abruptly as he had arrived.

"Great," I glowered, rubbing my tired eyes. "You shouldn't have let me sleep for so long. I'm gonna be a fucking zombie all through dinner."

"If you had wanted me to keep your sleeping habits in check you should have stipulated that when we were deciding on the rules."

We? Deciding? "You mean when you told me that I could and could not do?"

"Yes," Was his matter-of-fact reply. He finished writing something down and then painstakingly organized his workspace before getting up from his seat and walking over to the closet to retrieve the pair of grey slacks, white button-up shirt and blue jacket he had packed for the reception dinner. He took them into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

With a groan I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. The room briefly spun around my head. I got dressed in the black slacks and black button-up shirt that Tabytha had purchased for me along with the suit I was to wear to the wedding. I didn't mind the risk of Heero walking in on my while I was in a state of undress, I wasn't self-conscious of my body.

I was sitting on the bed tying my new, glossy shoes when Heero emerged from the bathroom. His unsightly, bulky attire made him seem twice as old and half as attractive as he actually was, but still I commented: "You look good." It was the polite thing to do after all and I didn't care for the silence between us one bit.

"So do you. Quite a change from the usual," He observed dryly.

"I happen to think I rock the 'maladjusted-teen' look," I jested lightheartedly, referring to my preference for torn jeans, baggy cargo-pants, faded T-shirts, oversized hoodies and worn All Stars.

He looked away, I couldn't tell if my joke had any effect on him. Probably not though.

I re-braided my hair and was done just as Cameron and Tabytha showed up and we were to go downstairs as a family. I felt like a fraud trailing after the 'picture-perfect' couple, Heero to my side. They were not my family and I especially had no interest in meeting all the relatives that had gathered downstairs in the dining hall, but it was duty to shake their hands and answer their mind-numbing questions with whatever lie that seemed most appropriate.

Although nearly two hundred guests would be coming to the wedding the next day, the rehearsal dinner was a little more demure, with some fifty or sixty family members and close friends of the happy couple attending. Most of them were not staying in the inn, there weren't enough rooms available, they were staying in a nice hotel in the nearest town.

The dining hall was filled with chattering guests, I felt like I was walking into a chicken coop. Large round tables were scattered around the floor space but most people were up on their feet and busily mingling. As soon as people took notice of Cameron they started to swarm him like he was a celebrity and they his devoted fans. They talked with him about business, golf and tennis and his accomplished son, Heero. Only at that point did the asshole think to introduce me.

"Duo…" Repeated one of the older gentlemen, sounding shocked.

"Hi. What's up?" I addressed the group that had gathered.

They all stared uncomfortably.

"How's your mother?" One of them asked.

"Dead," I replied coldly.

"Oh." No one offered me their condolences. They had nothing at all to say to me. Every single face looked relieved when one of them dared to turn the focus back to Cameron's golf handicap.

An attractive, middle-aged woman came bursting through the circle of spectators and squealed excitedly at the sight of Cameron's tall and imposing frame. She threw a lock of her golden hair over her shoulder in a practiced gesture and then lunged herself at him.

"My baby brother!" She disentangled herself from him and paused to straighten her silk, champagne-colored dress that hung off her bony shoulders with spaghetti straps.

"The beautiful bride!" He returned, making a slight bow.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come greet you earlier today. It has been such a chore making this wedding happen. Tabytha knows all about it!" She shared giggles with Tabytha, but as she looked at her sister-in-law her eyes caught sight of me and her jaw went slack, if only momentarily. She recovered quickly and exclaimed: "Little Duo! Oh, it is so wonderful to see you!" She walked up to me and hugged me as fervently as she had her brother.

I 'oomphed' when she crashed into me and wrapped her arms around me tightly. She was obviously in a state of inebriation, but her excitement appeared to be genuine.

She pulled back and cupped my face. "Oh, you've grown so tall… and handsome! You look nothing like Cameron, thank God! Haha!"

The crowd laughed with her, even Cameron although his eyes were dead in spite of his smile.

"Come, come sit with your aunt. We have so much to talk about!" With her arm around my shoulder she guided me to the nearest table and we took seats in front of plates that had entirely different names on the table cards.

I felt awkward, but at the same time it was a relief to have been swept away from that group of disdainful, staring eyes.

"My God," Before she continued she waved down a waiter for a glass of champagne. "It's been so long since I've seen you. You were no older than four or five!"

"Yeah," I reacted dumbly. I couldn't remember her at all. She was the aunt that never came to birthday parties, thanksgiving dinners or Christmas celebrations. In her defense, she lived on the other side of the country, in L.A., with her first husband at that time. We met twice, three times at most, before Cameron bailed and my mother severed all ties with the family, packed up our stuff and left to start anew.

"Do you remember? I had bought this toy for you, some kind of robot thing – whatever," She waved her hand dismissively and took a large gulp from her glass, "How the fuck was I supposed to know that the recommended age was eight and up? I didn't know a damn thing about kids, I just thought: he's a boy! Boys like robots! Right?"

"Sure."

She laughed hysterically and continued with big hand gestures: "So I gave you the present – I had them wrap it at the store of course – and you were so excited! I was right, you know, you really did like that damn robot. But your mom yanked it away from you because apparently the small parts were a choking hazard or whatever and you cried and cried and cried! God, she was so pissed at me…"

I forced on a smile.

"Your mom always hated me," She mused. "I'm so sorry by the way, for what happened." She reached out her skinny hand and rested it on my knee briefly. "God, isn't that just the scariest thing? Just like that, POOF! A brain tumor. God has a fucked up sense of humor, I know all about it kid, I'm twice divorced." She said it like it was supposed to mean anything, like I was supposed to feel equally sorry for her. She grumbled absent-mindedly: "Jesus, I wish I could light up a cigarette. Fucking nazi laws. The freedom of the American citizen down the crapper because some virginal, zit-faced scientist comes up with 'second-hand-smoke'."

I nodded and tried my best not to let my shock and disgust show.

"Speaking of virginal scientists… How are you getting along with your brother?" She eyed Heero, who was stiffly standing next to Cameron who bragged about his achievements to the guests, with a bemused glint.

"Fine."

She stared at me. "Bullshit. Bullshit!" She laughed.

I shrugged. "It's just a little tense."

"You don't have be PC with me, Duo. I won't tell my baby brother what you really think of Heero. I sure as fucking Hell don't tell him what I think of the little creep."

My eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

She rolled her head. "Okay, sure, the little worm is a genius… la-dee-fucking-da. But he creeps me out, the way he just stares at everyone and never says a damn thing."

Shock was clearly registered on my face at her derogatory words but it did not seem to register with her as she rambled on offensively.

"Look, when my baby brother had that nip flown in from the orient everyone was so impressed by his good deed. But really, there are plenty of normal kids he could have adopted. But Cameron just had to have him. And now look at him," She spat, "He looks so fucking ungrateful. I'm very relieved to see Cameron now has his proper son again. You-"

"STOP!" I jumped up from the chair and glared down at her, unaware of the shocked stares I was receiving, not only from her but from everyone around us.

"Duo!" She exclaimed in shock.

"Don't you fucking dare say those things!"

Her jaw dropped.

I was about to continue yelling at her when a strong hand wrapped around my upper arm and gripped me so tightly it hurt. I winced and looked back, straight into Cameron's angry eyes.

"Come with me," He hissed and he dragged me away. He wouldn't let go of me until we were in the relative privacy of the hallway.

"Do you know what-"

"Shut up!" He ordered and I couldn't help but obey. He was intimidating. "I am not going to let my son embarrass me like that."

"But-"

"You do not speak to your aunt like that."

"But she-"

"Conduct yourself with dignity. I expect a higher level of decorum from a Maxwell."

"Except of your sister?" I challenged.

"Well, I'm not the boss of my sister," He said dismissively.

"You're not the boss of me!"

He smirked darkly. "You will behave." The statement was definitive. He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back into the dining hall.

The dinner was a blur to me. I ate my pretentious servings of 'haute cuisine', hiding my distaste and tuned out the drab, monotonous exchanges of unimportant information like quarterly statements, insurance, horse power and political connections. On the inside I was seething. Heero was sitting next to me, as detached from the people around us as I was. Sometimes someone would ask him a question out of politeness, regarding school. Even though he took pride in his straight A record, all he ever replied to the question of how he was doing in school was: Fine.

At some point the professional photographer that had been blinding people with his flash all night had approached us for a picture of the two brothers. Neither one of us was very cooperative and what the bride would end up with was a picture of us staring into the lens with dead eyes, blank expressions and slumped shoulders. I had no doubt it wouldn't make it into any photo album.

With Cameron's permission – Heero asked, not I – we retreated to our room shortly after the dinner, leaving the hollow laughter behind us as waiters circled the tables with more alcohol, especially considering my little spat earlier that evening.

"Fucking bullshit!" I yelled once we were in the privacy of our room. We had been graciously granted permission to leave the party early. I kicked my empty duffel bag that was on the floor and it flew across the room.

All Heero had to say was: "I'm going to take a shower and then sleep. We agreed lights out and quiet at ten."

I glared at him. After catching a glimpse of my watch I snapped: "Well then I have thirty-five fucking minutes left to rant and you can damn well count on me making good use of them!"

Without a reaction he gathered up a fresh set of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Soon I heard the water running.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! Fuck!" I stalked over to the bathroom door, pounded on it once and yelled: "This family is fucking crazy!"

No response. He was probably just rolling his eyes at me losing my cool like that.

"And Cameron is a creep! He's a fucking creep!"

Nothing, but surely he had to agree with me on that one.

"He has no business telling what to do, or what to say!" I ranted on in frustration, throwing my hands up in the air angrily. "And that bitch! Unbelievable!" I snorted. "And who the fuck cares about the fucking sand-trap at St. Andrews Golf Course! Why did I have to listen to some old fart talk about a pit of sand for forty fucking minutes?!"

Twenty minutes later Heero emerged from the bathroom freshly showered with a scowl on his face. "Are you done?"

I glanced down at my watch. "I have fifteen minutes left."

He threw his gaze up at the ceiling and walked past me with a grunt to put away his worn clothes and crawl into his bed. Tucked under the sheets, propped up against the headboard, he pulled a book into his lap.

"You're seriously going to read?"

While glaring at me with one eyebrow raised he demonstratively opened the book and then focused his attention on the printed words.

"How can you be so calm?"

"I'm used to it."

I scrunched up my face. "Alright… so that means you're okay with just rolling over and taking it?"

He shot a cold look at me.

I sagged down onto my bed, flabbergasted. "So that's it? It doesn't bother you?"

"It's over now, isn't it? There is no point getting all worked up over it."

"I'd agree if not for the fact we still have the rest of the weekend to get through."

"Just get over yourself and bear it. It'll be over soon." He turned a page. Casually, he reminded me, "Your time is running out."

I shrugged. "I guess I'm done cussing. If… If you're okay with it, I suppose I shouldn't let it get to me like that." No fucking way I truly believed that, but I had been making some progress with Heero and it seemed beneficial to just go with it.

"Good. But you still have to get ready for bed and you only have ten minutes left."

"Dear God…" I rolled my eyes but started gathering clothes to sleep in and my toothbrush and toothpaste and headed into the bathroom. I was done and in bed with minutes to spare. I flashed him a grin but he quickly made it disappear with the announcement that he had set his alarm for seven o'clock.

"Why? We could sleep in."

"I always get up at seven. I don't want to disturb my sleep-wake-rhythm."

"Fine. Knock yourself out. Just don't disturb my 'sleep-wake-rhythm' either…"

Of course the next morning I was awoken with a start by Heero's shrill alarm clock and the shock of the sudden, violent sound had me sitting upright in bed with no hope of falling back asleep. "Fuck you," I growled at him, watching him get out of bed with hooded eyes.

"Not that I want you to join me for breakfast, but if you get up now you won't have to eat with all the other guests," He remarked absentmindedly as he disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

I was up in a flash, blindly gathering clothes and throwing them on. I hastily combed out my hair and neatly braided it anew after the plait got ruined while I tossed around in bed all night.

Heero eyed me with marginal surprise when he walked out and spotted me. "You don't want to shower first?"

"I'll shower later. Gotta beat the other early birds to the buffet. Let's go!"

He shrugged and followed me out of the room, through the hallway to the dining hall. Only a few of the tables were occupied. Some faces were vaguely familiar but we certainly wouldn't be expected to sit with them for breakfast. With a growling stomach I made a beeline for the breakfast buffet, loading my plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and bread.

Heero made a face at my selection while he got himself a bowl of plain yoghurt and added pieces of fresh fruit to it. "How could you possibly eat that?"

"With a fork," I dead-panned.

"You're disgusting."

"Oh please, I'm doing you a favor. I could easily eat this with my hands. Or just eat it straight off the plate-"

"Please don't."

I chuckled and crossed the room to take a seat at a table by the window, overlooking the stream and the dense line of pine trees beyond. I was surprised – pleasantly so – when Heero took a seat next to me. I had expected he would join me at the table, but I hadn't thought he would voluntarily sit right next to me at a table that could seat six.

He paid me no heed, even as I was staring with a silly look on my face, and brought the first spoonful of yoghurt – with a chunk of peach – to his lips. Along the way he had found a local newspaper and he folded it out on the table to read.

"So… the wedding isn't until late in the afternoon. What do you want to do until then?"

He frowned, but his eyes never left the page. "I am going to study."

"Nooo," I drawled, then emphasized: "What do you want to do?"

"I want to study."

"Ugh, your hopeless."

"Yeah? And what about you? Plan on doing a lot of hiking in your All Stars?"

I made a face. Nature wasn't really my thing. Sure, I enjoyed the sights trekking across America from the relative comfort of the passenger seat in my mom's old truck, but I was far too dependent on modern amenities to consider venturing out into the wild unknown. "No," I replied with a roll of my eyes, "I was actually thinking about heading into town."

Heero snorted. Even though he still pretended to be reading the newspaper, I suspected he was giving me his undivided attention since he hadn't turned a page in a while. "As if Cameron would ever let you borrow the car."

"Well, dummy, I don't need him to lend me the car-"

"You're walking?"

"Jesus," I grumbled under my breath, "It's like having breakfast with Rainman. Didn't you see the big poster at the front desk? There's a shuttle bus heading into town every hour."

He looked like he doubted me.

"Ah, he's smart, sure. Observant? Not so much."

He didn't enjoy being mocked, so he spat childishly: "Cameron is never going to give you permission to leave the hotel."

I shrugged. "It's worth a try." I happened to glance around the room, chewing a big bite of my breakfast, when I spotted Cameron and Tabytha by the buffet table – plates loaded up with fruits – and they were scanning the crowd, clearly looking for us. I shrank in my seat when their gazes found us in the far corner and they started in our direction, pausing to greet family members seated at other table. "Speak of the Devil…" I mumbled under my breath just as they approached our table.

"Goodmorning, boys," Tabytha chirped, "Sleep well?" She didn't even wait for us to answer, she started to ramble about how soft the mattress was and that she slept like a baby and that evolved into a lengthy monologue about how important nightly rest is for the complexion.

Heero absent-mindedly handed a section of his newspaper to Cameron, who had taken a seat next to him. I had the misfortune of having Tabytha sitting next to me, taking the full brunt of her incessant chatting, even having to suffer a few compliments about my own complexion – 'sickly pale' as I may have been, apparently my pores were invisible and she marveled at my 'manscaped' eyebrows. The idle conversation introduced to me to a whole new level of discomfort. So I was actually relieved when she had to come up for air eventually and I could turn my attention to Cameron.

"Do you guys have any plans today?"

It took Cameron a moment to look up from the news article. "I suppose it is my duty as brother of the bride and of Tabytha as wedding planner, to assist in getting everything ready."

"Oh yes, it needs to perfect," Tabytha chimed in and then took a delicate bite of grapefruit.

"Oh. Well, since you are busy anyway, you wouldn't mind it if I head into town for a little while?"

Cameron chewed thoughtfully. "Into town?"

"Yeah. I'd like to look around, maybe do a little shopping. I think I might need some new clothes."

"You do, you definitely do," Tabytha concurred, disdainfully looking down at my black cargo-pants.

There was a long silence and then Cameron spoke matter-of-factly: "Okay."

Heero's head snapped up. "Okay?" He blurted.

"Yes. There is no need for Duo to waste his time here and I think shopping for some new clothes is a good idea. I saw there was a bus heading into town every hour."

"Yes, I saw that too," I pointed out and in response to Heero's perplexed expression I looked smug.

"Then I don't see why not. I'll give you some cash after breakfast." Cameron nodded definitively and then turned the page to resume reading.

Out of the blue Heero declared: "I want to go too."

It was my turn to look perplexed.

Cameron mirrored the expression, although he hid it quickly. "You do? Why? Weren't you planning on studying in your room?"

"I need new clothes too."

A chuckle erupted out of Tabytha. "Oh, you most certainly do. Would a slim-fit button-up kill you?" She remarked, but then blinked innocently and looked down at her plate.

"You really want to go?" Cameron sounded hesitant.

"Yes."

I jumped in: "Cool!" I exclaimed exaggeratedly. "It'll be good to spend the day with my brother." I knew the brother-bonding-angle would prevent Cameron from backing out.

"You're right. It'll be nice for you two to spend the day together," Cameron conceded. "Just make sure you are back before three, so you have plenty of time to get ready for the ceremony."

"Awesome," I drawled and I shot Heero a look.

He didn't look particularly excited but he had made it a point to come along and I was curious to know why. I'd try to pester him into confession later that day.

After breakfast we went upstairs. Halfway up the steps Heero asked: "Who's 'Rainman'?"

I laughed.

Heero studied for a little while as I showered and brushed my teeth, since I hadn't taken the time to do that before. I lounged on the bed listening to music until I decided it was time to go and Heero didn't argue with me. He followed me downstairs where we looked for Cameron in the chaos of men and women working on the final preparations for the wedding.

He gave Heero his ATM card and explained that he would have given us the keys to the car if not for the fact that we didn't know the area and he didn't want to risk us getting lost. It was all fine with me, I didn't mind taking the bus.

Of course I ended up listening to an unidentified family member the whole way into town as she and her friends also took the bus. I tuned her out and observed Heero, seated across from me, holding his bag in his lap. He had taken three textbooks with him and I worried I would lose him at the first quiet café or park-bench we would come across. Obviously he had no interest in shopping, he merely used the impromptu outing to get away from Cameron, it seemed. Although I didn't exactly understand why, other than the fact that Cameron was a controlling creep. Heero should be used to that by now, he hadn't appeared bothered by his controlling nature before, shrugging it off as a meaningless nuisance more than anything.

I ditched the group of ladies when we arrived at the bus stop in town and dragged Heero along by the wrist so they wouldn't catch up with us.

To my dismay the town was a town in the smallest sense of the word. The shopping district was a single street with mostly local stores like a butcher shop, a tailor and a bakery. With only a single bookstore and three clothing stores that didn't look like my kind of place at all, I worried we weren't going to be able to kill a sufficient amount of time and boredom would force us to head back long before the hour of three.

I looked over to Heero and saw he had already plucked one of his books from his bag and had started reading while he quietly stood next to me. I was tempted to take the book from him, but I knew better. He would just snatch it right back and seethe that I was not allowed to touch his things and then the rest of the day would be the kind of uphill battle that you need icepicks and oxygen-masks for.

"Want to hit the bookstore first?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

"Alright." I started towards the bookstore and threw a glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, he was following me, trailing three steps behind, nose still in his astronomy textbook.

We lost each other between the aisles as we scoured the store. Heero didn't know it, but I was quite the avid reader, although he wouldn't approve of my preference for science fiction and dystopian, futuristic tales. Of course Heero idled in the science section and occasionally when I'd peek around the corner I saw him commit a book to the small but growing stack at his feet.

I spent my time looking for a copy of one of my favorite books that I had lost while I was traipsing around Las Vegas, trying to deal with the death of my mother while simultaneously struggling to make a living, all in an attempt to honor her dying wish; to not let the authorities take me back to Cameron.

Much to my joy I found George Orwell's 1984 and with it tucked under my arm I joined Heero at the non-fiction aisle and sat down on the carpeted floor, with my back against the bookshelves stacked with self-help books.

I cocked my head and read the incomprehensibly long and complicated titles of the five books neatly organized at his feet. "A little light reading, I see?"

He flinched, like he hadn't been aware of my presence. He dumbly looked down at the stack, then remarked defensively: "I can get as many as I want."

I shrugged. "I wasn't judging. Well, I was, but not the quantity." I flashed him a grin.

He nodded at the book under my arm. "What about you?"

I presented him the cover.

"George Orwell, 1984? You like that book?"

"You sound surprised." I couldn't really blame him, so I answered: "It's one of my favorites actually. Have you read it?"

"Of course. It was on the list for English Lit."

"Yeah. That's probably why my mom had me read it." I looked down and grimaced. I hadn't intended to mention my mom, I didn't want to risk anybody asking me about her.

Of course I was foolish to fear, Heero didn't care about my story with my mother, he ignored the remark and continued his search.

Recognizing it was going to take a while I got comfortable on the floor, with one leg outstretched and the other bent at the knee, with the foot tucked under the other leg. I opened the book and balanced it on my left hand, flipping the pages with my right.

At one point – while I was on page 36 – Heero knelt down on the floor by his stack and started to narrow down his choices. I paid him little attention and went on to page 37.

It was at page 88, when I briefly glanced up, that I realized he was having trouble choosing between three books. I closed the book, placed it in my lap, and studied him momentarily, my gaze going unnoticed.

His expression was one of deep contemplation as he held the textbooks one at a time, studying the front and back, rifling through the pages, reading random paragraphs. He craned his slender neck to look up at the shelves, like he was reconsidering a book he had previously dismissed, but he thought better of it and focused on the three before him. He nodded decisively and gathered the heavy books in his arm. "I'm ready," He announced, getting up from the floor.

I jumped up. "You're getting all three?"

"I can get as many as I want," He stated defiantly.

Spoiled little thing, I thought dismissively. "Alright. Let's head for the check-out and then see if those clothing shops are any good."

"I don't want clothes," He said with a pout on the way to the register where he dumped the heavy textbooks on the counter and I placed my paperback copy of 1984 on top.

"Too bad. We said we were going to shop for clothes, so they expect us to come back with clothes."

He grunted but didn't say anything so I assumed he agreed with my logic. He paid for the books without so much as making eye-contact with the friendly clerk. The duty to say 'Hello', 'Thank you' and 'Have a nice day' fell to me.

At the third store I found clothes to my liking and I purchased two pairs of jeans – black and grey – and a number of cheap, dark T-shirts and sweaters while Heero mostly loitered in the corner occupying himself with the first chapter of one of his purchases. Eventually I managed to persuade him to try on some things. I watched him pick out a pair of slacks in a horrible, undefined shade of brown and a cardigan two sizes too big and while he was in the dressing room – I supposed to make sure the fabric was itchy on top of everything else, to ensure the highest quality of repellency – I hurriedly got a pair of form fitting jeans and a tailored white button-up. He vehemently argued against my choices when I presented them to him - after catching him sitting on the bench in the dressing room, reading one of his goddamned books – but he could not deny my logic when I reminded him Tabytha wanted him to get something fitted and if he would just get the one set, she wouldn't be pestering him about it anymore.

I waited on the other side of the curtain and stifled my chuckles as I heard him express complaints under his breath. When the rustling of clothes died down I called out: "And?"

Disdainful he replied: "It's too tight."

"What is?"

"Both."

I rolled my eyes. "Can you button up the jeans?"

"Yes."

"Can you button up the shirt?"

"Yes."

"Does it look like you are about to burst out of either?"

"No, there is still a little bit of room left, but-"

"Then the fit is just fine. Show me."

"No!"

I laughed at the high pitch. "Come on!"

"No!"

"I'm pulling away the curtain in 3… 2…"

"God! I knew I hated you with good reason!" He yanked aside the curtain to submit me to the full force of my glare.

It would have been impressive – intimidating for sure – if not for the fact that I was looking anywhere but in his eyes. I always knew he was sporting a better physique than his horrible choice of attire alluded at, and the size of the jeans and shirt I had picked was spot on, but the reality of it was quite remarkable.

Between his bare feet – toes curling in discomfort – and his flustered, angry face, he was a vision of perfection. His slim legs, encased in light blue denim, went on for days. He had the shirt tucked into his jeans and normally I would disprove, but with his narrow hips and tiny waist he could pull it off. The white cotton of the shirt contrasted nicely with the natural golden hue of his skin and I imagined he would look even better with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. He had the shirt buttoned all the way up, the collar fitted around his graceful neck that would look even longer if he would pop the top three buttons.

As I shamelessly stared – wondering whether I could or couldn't see his nipples through the fabric – I definitely wasn't having any brotherly feelings.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Stop staring. Just when I think you've become less bothersome you reveal yourself to have been the same annoying simpleton all along."

Ignoring him I stated: "Buy the clothes."

"No."

"Why the fuck not? You look amazing!"

His eyebrows knitted together. "Why would I want to pursue such a shallow objective? I have no interest in looking 'amazing'."

I threw my gaze up at the ceiling. "No, I suppose you only care about looking smart."

"Please, that would be no less shallow. I am only interested in actually being smart. Anyone can 'look smart'," He spat derisively, "Even you."

"Now who's being the simpleton? You don't want me to bother you? You don't want Tabytha to bother you? Buy the fucking clothes and shut us up."

"Fine!" He ripped the curtain back to close the stall.

"Fine!" I echoed with a grin.

Twenty minutes later we were quietly seated in the bus on our way back to the hotel, practically inhaling the chocolate croissants we had picked up at the quaint bakery.

The shopping had left me in a lighthearted, positive mood. I decided give myself the weekend off and to push away all of my concerns and bad thoughts for the time being and enjoy the steady progress I was making with Heero. Sure, he still claimed to hate me, but I was well-acquainted with his genuine hatred – it was vile and biting – and the way he acted no longer reflected that. I had the hopeful inkling that he was being abrasive and crass because he didn't know how to behave differently.

There was a carefree bounce to my step. I wasn't going to stress about the fucked-up dynamics – and underlying reasons – of this family I had been tossed into until Monday.

At four o'clock everyone was seated in the barn adjacent to the hotel, waiting for the slightly delayed ceremony to start. I busied myself studying the setting. It was quite beautiful. The entire inside of the enormous barn was painted a crisp white and the high, pitched ceiling, with sparkling lights wrapped around the support beams merged cathedral-like acoustics and grandeur with ethereal whimsy.

Music by a violin quartet announced the arrival of the bride, slowly making her way down the aisle in a skirt suit of gold, shimmering material with embroidered details.

In spite of my intentions to temporarily cast off my judgment and dismay of this twisted extended family, I couldn't help but think: bitch. My eyes were cold with disinterest following her towards her husband-to-be, who thankfully sported a warmer expression.

The bloated ceremony lasted an hour including any and all antiquated rituals and opportunities for self-glorification possible. Kings and queens have been married blowing less smoke up their own asses, I thought, mouthing nonsense as the crowd was supposed to stand and sing yet another hymn.

When it was finally over the newlyweds were whisked away by the hired photographer who had scouted a number of idyllic backgrounds for their immaculate wedding pictures and the guests were ushered into the ornately decorated dining hall for the reception. I was quite pleased to discover both Heero and I had been assigned seats at one of two 'kiddie-tables'. Probably as punishment for my outburst the evening before. As we awaited the grand entry of the newlyweds I helped a young girl – a second cousin, or something – pick out a color for the fish that was the next picture in her coloring book. Heero all the while stared intently at the flicker of the candles amidst the carefully arranged flowers of the table's centerpiece.

Suddenly the room erupted into clapping and cheering, but I didn't even bother to get up and feign excitement. Our table was so far in the back I couldn't even see the happy couple through the mass of tuxedo's and cocktail dresses anyway. More importantly, the bride wouldn't be able to see my total lack of enthusiasm.

What followed was almost an hour of speeches that tested my gag-reflex. Luckily the girl's insistence that I help her with her coloring was the perfect excuse to not pay attention to the ass-kissing. I shot a glance over my shoulder occasionally and saw Heero was still keeping himself entertained studying the movements of the flame of the candle closest to him. If he was thinking of setting the room on fire he was but a single questioning look removed from having an accomplice in me, but unfortunately it seemed like he had just tuned everything out and he was probably thinking of something academic and dry, like the contents of that book on advanced mathematics that he had been dependent on all day like an unhealthy drug habit.

Eventually I was awarded my own coloring image – the oversimplified image of an owl – and set to work with the bright colored crayons while waiting for the first course to be served. After asking nicely I was granted another page torn from the coloring book – a giraffe – and I placed it in front of Heero, along with a yellow and a red crayon.

"Here you go," I chirped.

He stared at the outline of the animal.

I expected him to hand the page right back to me with some sort of degrading remark regarding my intelligence.

Instead, he pointed out dryly: "For a giraffe I'd need a beige and a brown crayon."

I smiled. "Don't have those. But I do have green, purple, orange and pink if you're feeling particularly creative."

He scoffed and continued the important task of staring up ahead.

When I was done with the owl, earning myself compliments from the six year old artist next to me, I started on the giraffe.

The night wasn't insufferable. The kiddie-menu of fries and crispy chicken and chocolate sundae's for desert that were served at our table were actually more to my taste that the exotic foods that the waiters presented to the other guests. The two big pieces of red velvet cake with dark chocolate frosting that I managed to steal made me a happy boy for as long as they lasted as I wolfed them down with big bites – the kiddie-menu had unfortunately meant kiddie-sized portions.

As everyone started to mingle later in the evening and abandon the dining tables for the dance floor I lost track of Heero who was making the rounds with Cameron, who proudly showed him off to uncles, friends and business associates. The intelligence of their offspring likely paled in comparison to Heero's, which was undoubtedly exactly the reason why Cameron enjoyed rubbing the boy's genius in their faces.

I appointed myself nanny and played with the kids. I was better with the kids than the present adults anyway. They were too young to mimic their parent's arrogance and even blatant racism. Tasking myself with keeping the children entertained and docile conveniently allowed me to sidestep any approach from distant relatives who felt obliged to catch up with me.

"Sorry, I can't really talk, we're playing hide-and-seek."

They were probably just as relieved as I was not to have to suffer through a conversation of forced niceties.

It wasn't until I gathered them all up at our table again so their parents could pick them up and take them to bed that I noticed Heero still hadn't returned to his seat. If he didn't come back soon he'd miss the flame he had been watching going out in a cloud of smoke as the candle had dwindled to a pathetic stump amongst the arranged roses and lilies.

Sitting alone at the table I wrinkled my nose when I caught a burnt scent and watched as the candles on our table went out one by one. The hour was close to midnight. The crowd of guests hadn't shrunk by much, only the parents of the young children had been forced to go back to their rooms upstairs or their hotel in town. People were still dancing and laughing and waiters continued to circle the tables with an endless supply of champagne glasses. Recognizing my absence would go unnoticed, I decided to go look for Heero and headed up to our room.

I expected him to be seated at the desk, but he wasn't there. His bed was empty too.

"Heero?"

Quiet.

I felt a sickening uneasiness in my stomach, my twisted imaginations getting the better of me again. My carefree demeanor was instantly replaced by suspicion and vigilance. I could feel something was wrong, though I couldn't explain how I could tell. The last time I sensed something was wrong was mere minutes before my mother told me about her diagnosis and the terrifying inevitability of her passing.

I stalked over to the bathroom door and tried the doorknob. It was locked. I knocked. "Heero?"

There was no answer.

To get a grip on my own anxiety I joked: "Are you jerking off in there or something?"

His strained voice replied: "Just leave me alone, Duo."

I recoiled at the sound of his voice. Something was definitely wrong. "Are you alright?"

There was a long pause, then he breathed: "I'm fine…"

He didn't sound fine. Not in the least. I demanded: "Heero, open the door."

"No!"

My fists tightened at my sides. "Heero, open this fucking door right now!"

"Just leave! I told you the bathroom was mine in the evening!"

I rapped my fist on the solid door. "Open this door!" I didn't know exactly what I feared was going on in there, I just knew I was afraid.

"You can't tell me what to do!"

"Fine! I won't. Leave the door fucking locked, for all I care. But know that I will just kick in the door!" I gave little to no pause to second-guess whether or not I'd be able to kick the door in.

"Leave me alone! I don't want you here!"

"I'm kicking in the door!" I announced and I took a step back. I warned him to step away from the door and just as I started my countdown I heard the click of the lock being opened.

Nothing else happened.

I took a moment to steady my breathing. I had been pumping myself up in preparation of attacking that door with any force necessary.

Before I could reach for the doorknob it turned and Heero opened it a few inches to peer out at me. He attempted a glare, but his face was pale and his normally expressive eyes were weak and tired. "See, I'm fine, now leave me alone."

I steeled my nerves and pushed the door open all the way. Heero lacked the strength to stop me.

I stared at him, stripped down to nothing more than the white dress-shirt he had been wearing with his suit and black boxer briefs. My eyes were tempted to trail down the length of his bare legs, but they caught sight of rivulets of dark blood running down the inside of his thighs. My jaw dropped. My heart rate sped up. My mouth went dry. My hands got slick.

Heero sighed in resignation and stepped back, maneuvering himself with slow movements to sit on the bathroom floor with his back against the side of the bathtub. He heavily leaned his head back and extended his legs out in front of him. It was then that I saw the bloodied razor on the white edge of the bathtub.

I swallowed the lump in my throat that previously incapacitated my speech. "What have you done?" I asked in a whisper. Tentatively I stepped into the bathroom, unsure of what to do or what to say. I stared at his thighs, noticing the fresh cuts that were the source of the blood. The towel he was sitting on was dotted red as well. As I got closer I could see that his thighs were riddled with scars in various stages of healing. I held onto the sink for support. I stared at the blood. It was a lot, but I didn't know if it was too much. When I looked up at his sickly pale face I noticed he had been staring me down with defiant eyes.

I slowly crouched down, succumbing to the shock.

Heero closed his eyes. His breathing was deep and labored.

"Isn't that a lot of blood?" I asked with shaky voice.

He cracked his eyes open and looked down. He ran his index finger through the trail of blood seeping from one of the cuts. "No, it's fine."

I nodded dumbly. I would have called for help but I didn't think getting Cameron involved – and the rest of the family for that matter – would be helpful to Heero. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

His eyes were honest as he replied: "It's liberating."

"I don't understand. Doesn't it hurt?"

A bitter smile formed on his lips. It scared me. "It's nothing I can't handle." He paused to swallow. "When I cut, it feels like that pain is the only real pain and any other hurt is meaningless; is nothing but a ghost. Then, when the blood comes, I feel weak. It feels like I'm drifting away from my body, leaving all pain behind. It's a relief."

His uncharacteristic openness surprised me. I got the sense he was too tired to maintain the barricades necessary to keep me out and he was surrendering to my invasion into what was personal and intimate, not having the strength to fend me off with snappy insults and menacing glares. Realizing I should gather all the information I could while he was being forthcoming, I continued to question him. "Why do you feel the need to do this?"

"It's the only way I can escape," He breathed.

"Escape from what?"

He sighed. "It doesn't matter. I'm free now. And I'll be free next time I cut and the time after that. I can escape whenever I want to."

I frowned. Boldly, I inquired: "Is it because something bad happened to you before you were adopted?"

Heero's mouth offered no answer but his eyes spoke volumes: a definite yes.

"And did something bad happen to you after you were adopted?"

Another wordless yes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Brothers**

**Chapter 9**

The next day we were seated in the car and were on our way back to the house. The minutes had been dragging as Cameron and Tabytha kissed everybody goodbye, while Heero and I lingered shyly – or disinterestedly – by the vehicle. We didn't say a thing. We hadn't said anything since the previous night. If possible, the atmosphere was even more uneasy than I've grown used to, yet I felt an alien connection to Heero. I suspected that since I had witnessed his weakness, his truth, his raw, exposed self, he didn't saw any point to maintaining the strict barriers with deceptive façade that I had been faced with prior. Sometimes when my gaze found his, I could see that the door was still ajar. I was still looking into that bathroom, looking at his frail form, so to speak. Whether he actually was less harsh or if that was just my self-imposed illusion because I pitied him more than ever, I didn't know. But I felt like he resented me less and trusted me more. I had kept his secret, which he may not have been expecting.

I would never tell Cameron what I had seen. In a normal father-son-relationship such things might be shared, but it was as clear to me as ever that neither Cameron and I, nor Cameron and Heero, were privy to a normal father-son-relationship. I didn't know the details, part of me didn't want to know the details, but I knew enough to conclude that Cameron was the enemy. Our enemy. And Heero would have an ally in me, whether he recognized it or not.

"Wasn't it a beautiful wedding?" Tabytha asked after an hour or so of silence in the car.

Cameron looked over at her and reached out to touch her knee. "It was absolutely beautiful. You did a wonderful job, you made my sister so happy."

"Thank you. I'm so glad." She looked over her shoulder at the backseat. "What about you boys? Did you enjoy the weekend?"

I nodded my head slowly.

"Did you like meeting everyone, Duo?"

"It was… an eye-opener," I declared ambiguously.

Misconstruing my response as positive she smiled at me. "Oh, good. And it was probably better for you too this time, right Heero? Now that there was someone there of your age?"

Heero looked over at me. "Yeah."

"It's great having siblings," Cameron concurred. "I wouldn't be the man I am today if it wasn't for my sister."

I rolled my eyes. Evil definitely runs in the family, I thought bitingly. I wondered what their parents – my grandparents, for fuck's sake – had been like, for their children to grow up to be such assholes. In that moment it dawned on me that the patriarchal head of the family hadn't been present. I hadn't even noticed his absence, seeing as I was used to not having a grandfather, but despite my limited knowledge of wedding proceedings I was pretty sure he should have been there. Boldly, I made eye-contact with Cameron in the rear-view-mirror and inquired: "Why wasn't your father here?"

A grimace tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth, but he forced his lips into a smile instead and joked: "He probably grew tired of walking my sister down the aisle. He has made some miles, walking her to the altar."

Tabytha playfully smacked his arm. "Don't joke about your sister's failed marriages. You can't fault her for not being as lucky as we are."

"But seriously, why wasn't he there?" I pressed.

Cameron replied definitively: "He's a busy man, Duo."

I made a face and looked out the window.

His wife commented softly: "Sweety, don't be so stern. Duo just wanted to meet his grandfather."

"Apparently he didn't want to meet me," I observed coldly.

"Don't criticize my father for not making it to one, single event to meet you. It's your mother's fault your relatives are strangers to you now," Cameron snapped.

"Excuse me?"

He snorted. "Hauling you around the country like that…"

"What was she supposed to do, after you split?" I demanded and frowned at Tabytha's confused and Cameron's insulted expression.

"I 'split'?" He looked sideways at his wife incredulously, then back at me. "That's what she told you? That I'm the one who left?"

"Honey, mind the traffic," Tabytha urged with veiled concern as she gazed up ahead at the road.

"Yes, that's what she said. You left one day, out of the blue. She was so hurt and ashamed that she felt she had no other option but to run; get away from the house and your precious family."

"I did not leave," Cameron claimed, his anger evident. "She was the one who left!"

I scoffed at his accusation.

"I came home one day and you were both gone, she had taken you!" He continued.

"Honey, car. Car!" Tabytha interrupted.

The vehicle swerved. "I saw the Goddamned car, Tabytha, I'm not blind!"

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I don't believe you."

"She lied to you."

"I don't believe you," I repeated.

"Are you calling me a liar, Duo?"

Cameron's furious bellow vibrated in my chest.

Heero shrank in his seat, practically pressing himself up against the door.

"Are you calling my mother a liar?" I retorted.

"Yes!"

"Fuck you!"

Tabytha yelped when her husband suddenly steered the car onto the grassy shoulder lining the highway and slammed on the breaks.

My heart was pounding. My chest and shoulder hurt where the seatbelt cut into me at the sudden stop. I suddenly felt frightened when I heard the click of Cameron's seatbelt being released and the threw the car door open.

"Cameron. Cameron." Tabytha's begging was pathetic and useless.

My entire body went stiff when the tall, blond man ripped my door open and leaned forward into my personal space. I always bravely believed that I would never be afraid of him, that he would never manage to intimidate me, but I had never seen him like that; so utterly enraged. I feared him. I grunted when he grabbed onto the front of my shirt and pulled me out of my seat a little.

"Say that again. To my face, this time," He seethed.

I swallowed audibly at the implied threat. All I could do was shake my head.

"No?"

I shook my head again.

"That's what I thought." He pushed me back into my seat forcefully and stared me down another moment or two before slamming the door shut and taking his seat behind the wheel again.

"Jesus, Cameron," Exhaled Tabytha.

He glared at her warningly and she didn't dare to say anything for the rest of the journey.

The confrontation left me shaking and I hated that. I didn't think he would ever be able to get to me like that, like he would never have that kind of power over me, but he had lulled me into a false sense of security with his façade of self-control and politeness. The way he looked in that moment left no doubt that he would hurt me if he thought I had given him adequate reason to punish me physically. The memory of Heero's dark blood on his blanched skin alluded at the kind of misery Cameron was capable of eliciting and seeing my 'brother' so affected had effectively stripped me of my armor. Heero was a tough guy to break – I knew that, I felt that – but Cameron had succeeded in wrecking him and I was rendered frightened of how he had achieved that and how well my character would hold up under whatever kind of besiegement he enjoyed subjecting his adopted offspring to.

When we arrived back at the house, someone must have flicked a switch. As soon as we stepped into the house, the game of pretend continued and Tabytha darted back and forth making arrangements for a special dinner as she suddenly exclaimed to be in a celebratory mood and Cameron placated her by letting her do whatever she wanted and sweetly replying 'yes, dear' to her every suggestion.

I picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and was about to head upstairs when my father called out my name, causing me to freeze.

"Would you like me to carry that upstairs for you?" He offered graciously. "It looks heavy."

"It's fine," I snapped back at him. His comment registered like a veiled insult. "I'm stronger than I look."

He smirked.

The asshole smirked.

I felt cold and sick. I adjusted my grip on the bag and hurried up to my room. As I made my way up the steps I could feel his eyes were on me; he just stood in the hallway, watching me go. "Oh fuck," I whispered to myself when I was confident I was out of ear-shot. "What kind of house of horrors am I in?"

We had an extravagant meal of excessive portions of overpriced foods –most of which weren't even to my liking – to the usual background noise of Tabytha talking incessantly. Probably solely for the purpose of drowning out the sharp sounds of our cutlery scraping across the fine china, particularly caused by me as I tensely cut my meal into bite-sized portions before prodding them back and forth along the plate and stabbing at the crunchy 'jacket' of my potatoes. My disinterest in the meal would be considered rude, but no one was paying attention to me. Cameron was too occupied pretending to be enthralled by Tabytha's repetitive, self-important story-telling and Heero just quietly and robotically chewed his food as he always did.

It was unnerving.

I stopped playing with my food and stared at the preposterous scene; Cameron's pastel plaid shirt and khaki's and loafers, like he was one of those ridiculously proper models from a Sears-catalogue; Tabytha's formulaic outfit of a too-tight-dress and statement necklace that seemed to be weighing down on her emaciated ribcage as she filled the silence with meaningless words strung together into tiring stories, sounding out of breath, her skinny arms gesturing like she was conducting a grand symphony as opposed to recounting the experience of being served the perfect skinny latte macchiato; Heero in his oversized clothes, that made him seem both older – because the style was so old-fashioned – and younger – because it dwarfed him –, like a kid wearing his dad's clothes as an expression of adoration and a desire to grow up to be just like him.

There they sat, pretending to be the perfect family – an act that almost convinced me, to my utter embarrassment, but wouldn't fool me anymore – like Cameron hadn't nearly ripped me free from my seatbelt and thrown me into rushing traffic, like Heero wasn't mutilating himself, like Tabytha was Cameron's equal.

I looked down at myself. After showering I had changed into my usual attire: boots, cargo pants and a T-shirt layered over a long sleeved shirt, with aggressive rock imagery on it; the only way I felt comfortable expressing my anger and sadness at having lost my mother, because it was the only way that didn't leave me feeling vulnerable. I always thought that was a remarkably unhealthy approach, but at least I felt it, at least it affected me. It scared me that they could act like that, like nothing was wrong, when clearly they were twisted as individuals and as a family unit. I didn't care too much about Tabytha, not at all for Cameron, but I worried about Heero – after all, was I not supposed to? Considering administrative papers exist that indicate we are brothers. I wanted to reach out and shake him awake. He shouldn't have to suffer like that – quietly and solitarily. It wasn't normal, but Cameron and Tabytha had taught him differently. I wondered who taught them.

The next day, at school, I was once more rendered incapable of concentrating on the lessons on Spanish, Geography and home-economics. It was getting progressively worse. I ignored the attempts of my classmates to include me in the pre- and post-class fun they were having – discussing college football games and some celebrity who was making another comeback after the umpteenth stint in rehab. Normally I wasn't opposed to chatting along to keep the school body from turning against me, which I recognized would be a horror, but I was overwhelmed by how little I cared to involve myself in their superficial conversation. I left them slack-jawed as I promptly walked away at the ring of the lunch bell.

All my life I had only ever cared about my mom, I had only ever really been interested in talking to her and being with her. She wasn't around anymore – that was a gross euphemism – and for whatever reason my fickle heart had decided on Heero; decided to care about him only, decided to only want to be with him. It was purely for selfish reasons though. He was the only person around whom I didn't feel so pathetically sorry for myself , because I pitied him more than I could ever pity myself. It was a relief.

I found him on a staircase in an abandoned part of the building. 'His staircase', he had previously made clear to me.

I casually announced my presence with a mumbled greeting and heavily sat down next to him, even being so bold as to clear away some of the papers and books that surrounded him so I could sit close to him.

He stared at me like he was confused and offended by my actions.

"What's up?"

"What are you doing?" He shot back. "I made it clear last time that I didn't want you here."

I shrugged. "Well, things are different now."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Different? How?"

"We're friends now," I declared unceremoniously and dug my packed lunch out of my bag.

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Tough."

Rather than objecting – which I liberally took as a small victory – he suggested agitatedly: "Go sit with your other friends."

"I don't have any other friends."

This seemed to puzzle him. "But you're always talking to these people-"

"I don't like people."

He scrunched up his face.

"I like you, though."

His expression softened. "Why?"

I took a bite from my sandwich. "Do you really want to know?"

"I trust that the fact that I asked implies as much."

"Because you are more fucked up than me."

He scoffed. "You think I am more messed up than you?"

"I didn't say 'mess'," I pointed out with a grin, "I said 'fuck'."

"Either way you are wrong." He took a chemistry book in his lap and promptly started to read.

I took another big bite from my lunch, realizing how hungry I was after not being able to swallow my breakfast as the odd, surreal atmosphere in the house was becoming more and more suppressing and suffocating to me.

He looked up at me disdainfully. "You chew like a cow," He remarked matter-of-factly, before redirecting his gaze to complicated schematics on the pages before him.

With a smirk I stuffed another bite into my mouth and chewed lazily. Heero didn't say anything. More importantly: Heero didn't ask me to leave. Emboldened by his tacit compliance to suffer my presence, I studied him, shamelessly memorizing his features and the way his bangs fell across them. The shine of his beauty was dulled by the ill-fitting clothes and the unseemly scowl that weighed his eyebrows, drawing them down, taking the light out of his eyes. But I had seen it that weekend. His beauty. His undeniable beauty. I had seen it in the dressing room of the store, I had seen it at breakfast when he voluntarily joined me and I had even seen in in the bathroom that night.

I felt my face get a little hot when I realized Heero had diverted his gaze away from the book and directly at me. "How are you feeling?"

His scowl reformed into a deeply confused frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… After what happened Saturday night."

"It was nothing." He actually seemed to believe that.

"You were so weak you couldn't even stand long enough to get to bed." We had sat on the bathroom floor all night, Heero had passed out rather quickly after my arrival, but I had spent the night awake, disturbed, concerned and frightened, staring at his pale features that in that moment lacked the hardness of the mask he usually put on. I had noted he had looked like a little boy, like a vulnerable little boy. I wanted to help him, but I didn't really know how. I was nothing but a vulnerable little boy myself, after all, as hard as that was to admit – even silently to myself.

"You didn't have to stay with me all night," He snapped.

He had looked very bewildered when he came to in the dawn and noticed I was still there with him. "Not having been able to sleep in a bed is not what bothered me."

"You shouldn't worry about me, you should worry about yourself. I've found a way to deal with it."

"Yeah, but what's 'it'?" I demanded to know, pressing my luck.

"If you don't know, than it doesn't matter." He started gathered up his belongings in anticipation of the nearing end to the lunch break.

As Heero got up and started up the stairs, I called after him: "But it's bad, isn't it?"

"It doesn't matter," He repeated and then disappeared around a corner, just as the bell rang.

I chased after him, even though my classroom was at the other end of the building.

"What do you want from me?" He shot over his shoulder as he hurried to his class. More students started to trickle into the halls.

"Don't you think I have the right to know what's going on?"

"No, it doesn't concern you." He slipped between the broad shoulders of two guys, disappearing into the growing crowd.

I pushed my way through after him and spotted him waiting by a door, surrounded by groups of people chatting and texting and exchanging ringtones.

He grumbled and rolled his eyes when he saw me approach him.

"I have to know what's going on," I insisted.

"Your mother didn't want you to know," He hissed in reply. "She took you away so you wouldn't know. That's what she thought was best for you, maybe you should respect that."

I shook my head. "Cameron was the one who left," I whispered decidedly, hoping not to attract the attention of the other students.

The teacher arrived and unlocked the door, herding his students inside.

Heero only rolled his eyes at my assertion before heading into the classroom.

"Young man," The elder teacher addressed me, "don't you have your own class to get to?"

"Yeah. Right…" I fumbled and then sprinted away. But I didn't run to class. My feet carried me out of the building, onto the street, my bag beat against me with the heavy books as I raced, the strap cutting into my shoulder.

I knew my mother hadn't wanted me to end up with Cameron after her death, but I always figured it was because she was still heartbroken over his sudden departure. What if she whispered in my ear to run, to stay away from him, not out of spite, but to protect me? Maybe Heero was right, maybe she would not have wanted me to know the truth and maybe I should honor that wish, but things didn't turn out the way she planned: I was with Cameron now and I had to know. I didn't want to be caught off guard by it. I didn't want to become like Heero. My mother wasn't around to protect me anymore, I had to protect myself. First I had to know what that meant, what I was up against.

After a twenty minute jog that left me gasping for air – woefully out of shape growing up on take-out meals – I arrived at the train station and found my way back to the old payphones. I retrieved my day planner from my bag and rifled through it, looking for the pages of notes in the back where I had jotted down the number in case of emergency. Luckily I had some loose change in my otherwise empty wallet.

I shoved the coins into the slot and dialed the number, holding the cumbersome phone to my ear.

Every time the phone rang a waves of nerves crashed over me, drowning me in uncertainty. I was about to hang up, not being able to stand it much longer, when the call was answered.

An older voice, sounding kind and familiar, crackled through the line. "Hello?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, it was painful because my mouth had gone dry. "Hello…" I started hesitantly, my previous sense of urgency diminishing. "Is this Ruby speaking?"

"Yes," Was the rather mistrustful reply. "Who is this?"

"It's Duo," I announced.

It was silent at the other end of the line.

Scratching the back of my neck I clarified sheepishly: "Helen's son?"

"Jesus, Duo, of course I know who you are! Give an old woman time to catch her breath!" Ruby said excitedly. Her voice became emotional as she expressed: "It's so good to hear from you."

I smiled. It was good to hear her voice as well, I was transported back to happier times with my mother, when 'Robby' came to visit. My mother loved her - revered her - she always lit up when Robby was with us, like everything would be okay, even though we all knew better than that.

"How have you been doing, sweetheart?" She inquired sympathetically.

Wiping away a lone tear I mumbled into the receiver: "Fine."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."

"Mom said I should contact you if I ever had questions, about what happened."

"Of course. Where are you? I live in Florida nowadays, if you can come over I can tell you anything you want to know. And you are welcome to stay with me as long as you like."

"I'm not exactly in the area."

"Are you still in Nevada?" She sounded concerned and she had every right to be, I didn't exactly live a life suitable for a teenager when I was still there, trying to make ends meet but ultimately failing to take care of myself.

"No, I'm in New York."

"New York?"

"That's why I'm calling now, actually. For answers. Because I'm living with Cameron now."

There was a long pause then a compelling appeal: "You shouldn't be with him, Duo. You have to leave that place."

My heart started to race nervously. "Why?"

"It's not safe," She declared, her voice stern.

"It's true then. We didn't leave home because Cameron had abandoned him, mom took me away from him?"

"Yes, sweety, and she had a very good reason to do so. Your father is a very dangerous man. He's violent and-" She stopped herself. "There is no point discussing this over the phone. I want you to leave that place right now, Duo."

"Violent and what?" I insisted.

She sighed. She explained vaguely: "There were a number of incidents… with young boys."

"Incidents?"

"Everything was swept under the rug by your father and grandfather, nothing ever stuck to your father, but your mother knew the accusations were true. She felt it in her gut. The boys were of your age. She knew she had to get you away from him, to keep you safe, before... Before he would start to see you 'that way'. The only way she knew how was to run, the police didn't take her seriously, the charges had been dropped after all, written off as vicious rumors..."

An intense nausea hit me and I doubled over. "Oh my God…"

"Duo, nothing happened, he never touched you-"

For some reason I immediately thought about Heero. About the darkkness I had seen in his eyes. About his blood on his pale thighs. "He adopted Heero when he was eight years old," I ground out, clutching my churning stomach. "The fucker adopted him because he wanted to have sex with him!"

"Duo, who is-"

I hung up the phone and started to run again, but there was no way to run away from this knowledge, I wouldn't ever be able to escape it.

'It's the only way I can escape' I heard Heero say from a recent memory, his face pale as his red blood stained the white towel he was sitting on.

I knew it. I suspected it. But I had refused to believe it.

"What a motherfucker!" I screamed, chills all over my body even as I started to sweat from the physical exertion. I ran so fast I wasn't bothered long by the odd looks strangers on the street were giving me.

I heard Cameron's sister – my aunt! – saying: 'There are plenty of normal kids he could have adopted. But Cameron just had to have him.'

He wanted him.

I stopped and turned to face the shrubs lining the pavement just as I couldn't hold it in any longer and I threw up, with horrible retching sounds. It dribbled down my chin along with snot and tears as I completely lost it.

My father was a fucking monster. Who knows how many lives he ruined to satisfy his own perversions.

But I wasn't going to let him ruin me, I wasn't about to sully my mother's efforts to keep me safe. I was going to leave. I couldn't worry about the fact that he might catch me through his connections. I had to try to get away.

And Heero was coming with me.

I picked up the front of my shirt, using it to wipe my face clean, before taking it off, leaving me in my white, long sleeved shirt. I discarded the soiled article of clothing and continued to run, back to the school. I took a seat on a bench on the schoolyard, hoping no teacher would pay any attention to me as I waited for the end of the school day. I didn't know where Heero was but I knew his final class of the day was Physics and I would meet up with him then.

Before the bell would ring I made my way up to the third floor and loitered in the hallway, keeping away from the windows looking into the classrooms so the teachers wouldn't see me and grow suspicious of a student not in class.

At the obnoxious ring of the bell students started pouring out of the classrooms, filling the corridors with bustling activity as they made their way to their final class. I strained my neck to look over the crowd, wanting to spot and catch up with Heero before he could slip into the classroom. I saw him round the corner after coming up the stairs and I pushed my way through the mass – earning some glares – to meet up with him.

"Come with me," I said and I gestured back at the staircase.

"Our classroom is right there," He pointed out indifferently.

I grabbed his arm proclaimed: "You are coming with me."

Heero struggled as I pulled him along. We turned some heads in the dissipating crowd as I pulled at him and Heero resisted, but no one intervened, they just turned to face their friends and started to gossip.

"Where are we going?" He insisted as he more or less gave up on fighting me and allowed me to guide him by the arm down the stairs.

"Away!"

"Away?" He mirrored.

We ended up outside by the bike stands. I didn't know why I figured we had to get his bike, unless we could somehow sell it to fund our escape, but that's where I brought him. The same bike stand where he casually told me about exchanging sexual favors with a former teacher to up his grade. The matter-of-fact tone he had used was all the more haunting since I knew the truth.

'I asked him if he had a condom, he stammered that he had one in his wallet, so I took it, put it on his dick and showed him I knew enough about sex to deserve better than an A-'

Cameron had done that to him. Cameron had… taught him.

I was still gripping his upper arm tightly, not knowing what to do, wishing I had some fool-proof plan to get us to safety.

Heero's face contorted and he admitted pathetically: "You're hurting me."

I let go of him instantly. I didn't want to hurt him. "I'm sorry."

He rubbed his arm to soothe away the pain. "We're late for our class."

"We're not going to class."

"I am," He stated rigidly.

"We can't fucking stay here!"

Heero was thoroughly impervious. "What are you talking about?"

"I know the truth!" I exclaimed as he was about to walk away. "I know everything everyone didn't want me to know. You… My mom…" I gestured dramatically.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You know nothing."

"Cameron wasn't lying. He didn't leave. My mom always told me he had abandoned us but the truth is she took me away from him to protect me," My voice wavered, my lower lips quivered.

He rolled his eyes at the display of emotion he was witness to. "I don't understand why you are making such a fuss."

"Cameron is fucking you!" I screamed, desperately trying to get through the barrier of ice he used to shield himself.

"He isn't!" Heero roared. "Not anymore!"

I blinked. "How is that supposed to make it any better?" It seemed like Heero thought it did. But I didn't really believe it was all in the past, remembering the disoriented state in which Heero returned home from the 'fishing trip'.

"I'm dealing with it! I have it under control!"

"We are leaving," I reaffirmed. I reached for his hand but he pulled away before I could catch him.

"I'm going to class," He seethed.

"Heero, we can run away. We can get away from him," I tried. My heart was pounding anxiously as it started to dawn on me I wasn't getting through to him.

"Where to?"

"Does it matter? Anywhere has got be better, right? After what he has done to you?"

He scoffed. "I'm not going to run away. Become some miserable homeless kid who has nothing, including no future. I lived that hand-to-mouth lifestyle before I was adopted. I'm not going back to that. Especially not now. Just one more year of this and I can go to any college, all expenses paid."

My eyes were wide with consternation. "So you are just going to suffer living with a sexual predator because he's paying for your food and education?"

"I grew up with nothing and I hated that!" Heero shrieked, overcome with sudden emotion. "I had to share everything with my siblings; clothes, a bed, too little food, even a toothbrush! I was always filthy and hungry and sick and stank of urine. I'd rather suffer Cameron than go through that again."

I shook my head. "He's got you brainwashed-"

"No! I choose this! I'm going to an Ivy League school, I'm going to make something of myself and I'm going to leave my past far behind. I've decided that that is worth the price I pay. Cameron is nothing but a stepping stone."

I covered my mouth with my hand, shocked at his reasoning. "You are mistaken if you think you it is fair of Cameron to use you because you are using him."

"Oh what do you know?" Heero bit viciously. "You think you know poverty because you lived in motels? You think you know pain because you lost your 'mommy'? If you knew real poverty and real pain you wouldn't mind the costs of what it took to avoid it. You are a petty boy, Duo. You are never going to grow up and realize things come at a price. You would rather use your mother's death as an excuse to waste your life and do nothing but feel sorry for yourself."

Enraged by Heero's insults, I retaliated: "Maybe that's true! Maybe I will never amount to any resemblance of greatness. So what?" I challenged. "Maybe you will end up a renowned scientist or revered engineer and maybe I'll end up flipping burgers for a living, but at least I will still have a shot at achieving happiness. Whereas you will spend the rest of your empty, loveless life resenting yourself!"

Heero composed himself, locking his emotions back inside. "Go. Run," He sneered, "I'm going to class."

I watched him leave, holding my hand against my chest trying to calm my racing heart to no avail. "Fuck!" I hurried inside, I could hear his footsteps as he climbed the staircase. "And you seriously think I'm more fucked up than you?!" I called after him for shock-value.

He didn't respond. His footfalls grew faint.

"I'm leaving without you!" Once my echo faded there was only silence.

Dumbfounded I stood at the bottom of the staircase, trying to process what had happened. I physically flinched when I was assaulted by a flash of an image of Cameron's body towering over a young kid – how I imagined Heero looked when he was eight. I couldn't wrap my mind around how Heero could accept what Cameron had done to him, for the 'greater good' of his future. Clearly the boy had been messed up – his mind warped – by his past experiences and I had no idea how to fix him, how to save him. Was that even my responsibility?

I left the school again, dragging my feet as I headed back to the train station. I knew I wanted to leave, I wanted to leave as quickly as possible, but something kept my pace slow, something gnawed at me.

When I was back at the train station I took a seat on a bench to calm my mind and my heart. It had been an intense day, to say the least.

I had to go, I knew, even though I was apprehensive about leaving Heero behind. It had been paramount to my mother to keep me away from Cameron and his perverted influences, it seemed like my duty to continue what had become her life's work; keeping me as far away from him as possible. As I gave it a moment's thought, I was awed by my mother's strength and resolve. It could not have been easy, dealing with the knowledge that she married a sexual predator – a pedophile. She must have been so distraught, so aggrieved, but I had only ever seen her put up a brave face. I understood why she lied to me, she tried to shield me from the truth, to keep it from hurting me the way it did now. Yet I wished I had known, if only so I could have thanked her and appreciated her all the more.

The sun stood low on the horizon by the time I hoisted myself up from my seat. I went inside the building, back to the payphones and put the last of my coins into the slot, knowing that Ruby would help me escape, she clearly understood the urgency of the situation.

The phone rang only once, she was quick to answer this time.

"Duo?"

"Hi," My voice involuntarily cracked. "I'm sorry about hanging up on you before."

"It's fine sweetheart. I'm worried about you, this is a lot to deal with."

I chuckled bitterly.

"Duo, tell me where you are, what city? I'll come and get you."

Not really paying attention to what she was saying I mewled into the receiver pathetically: "She saved me…"

"Honey, of course she did."

"I never knew. I wish I had known sooner. Yet at the same I wish I had never known." I let out a shaky breath. "It's so fucked up."

"It's going to be okay. You're safe now."

In spite of her words I started wailing. In a way I felt guilty. Because Heero had to take my place. My mother took me away from Cameron and he chose Heero to replace me, to become the son he could mold and indoctrinate into complacency so he could freely sodomize him. My 'brother' may still believe Cameron did him a kindness by adopting him, giving him 'stuff', in exchange for sex, but that was a belief formed by a corrupted, victimized mind.

That would have been me. That should have been me. But Heero had taken my place, had suffered in my stead.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay," Said Ruby, wrought with emotion. "Please tell me where you are, so I can help you."

I started shaking my head, surprising myself. "I can't go. I can't leave him."

"Who?"

I didn't know how to help him, but I had to try. At the very least I had to make an effort to protect him from Cameron's behavior and Heero's own destructive acceptance of it. I wasn't going to run and leave him behind like a coward. That was not the kind of man my mother would have wanted me to grow into.

"I'm staying," I stated definitively, more to myself – to encourage myself – than to Ruby. "I'm not going to leave him alone with this demented monster."

"Duo, wait-"

I hung up before she could scare me with more confrontational truths and talk me out of my decision. I made a mental note to call her once in a while, to let her know I was still okay, because I wasn't going to let Cameron get to me. I wasn't going to let him do to me what he did to Heero.

I had to stay with Heero and protect from his adoptive father and from himself until I could successfully convince him to leave with me. It was the only way I knew to honor my mother's memory; to be as brave and as strong as her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Brothers**

**Chapter Ten**

It took me a while to regain my composure. I knew I had to return to the house, honor the decision I had made, but the thought of having to face Cameron made me so nauseous I could barely walk. For hours I sat on a bench at the train station, watching the coming and going of people. Some of them looked at me, some of their stares lingered, I wondered if any one of them could see how broken I was. My skin was crawling, with fear, anger, resentment, disgust, worry, grief and guilt. The same feelings churned within me, deep in my stomach, mixing into a nauseating concoction. I felt that much worse when I considered my mother must have been feeling that way all those years; never being able to settle down, always running, always trying to escape it; always trying to escape him, but the thought of him must have haunted her everywhere we fled to. It was possible that even if I did manage to get Heero out of this situation, I would be haunted forever too, now that I knew, but at least I would have one thing to console myself with, that I didn't leave him here. My father may be a monster but I had to prove to the world and to myself, that I was not like him, I was my mother's son, not my father's.

When I managed to find my way back to the house it was almost completely dark. Cameron's expensive sedan was already parked in the driveway. With a thundering heart and shaking fingers I unlocked the door and stepped inside. Tabytha emerged from the kitchen, the smell of her cooking filled the entire house.

"You are awfully late," She noted.

"I'm sorry…" I paused to buy myself time to come up with an excuse. "I was watching the football team train."

"That's fine, dear. Are you thinking about joining the team?"

I shrugged. "Where's Cameron?" I blurted.

"In his office, why? If there is something you need you can just ask him, he won't mind, just don't forget to knock."

"No… No, it's fine."

She returned to her cooking, calling over her shoulder: "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

At the bottom of the stairs I stopped and gazed down the hall at the door leading into Cameron's home office. My sweaty fingers gripped the polished bannister. I didn't know how I could face him and pretend everything was alright.

I went upstairs to wash my face, brush my teeth and change into new clothes. I felt disgusting; I had been sweating and puking all afternoon. I wanted to take a shower but there was no time before dinner and being late for dinner was unacceptable. I had better continue to follow all the rules, any sort of altercation with Cameron would lead to me trying to throttle him, but I had little faith I would be able to overpower him.

Ten minutes later I headed back down with lead feet and an even heavier heart. I stopped halfway down the stairs when I heard his voice, trying control my shivers. I remembered how terrified I had been yesterday, in the car, when the tall man loomed over me threateningly. I could only imagine what Heero must have felt like, years ago when he was still a young boy, to have that intimating man stand over him. Those thoughts I desperately shook from my mind. I didn't want to go there, it was too disturbing to even think about.

"Right on time," Remarked Tabytha with a smile as I stepped into the dining room just as she came in carrying a casserole dish with pink oven mittens protecting her hands.

Heero was already seated at the table, his eyes widened with shock at the sight of me and his brows furrowed deeply as he tried to make sense of my presence after I had told him earlier that day I would be leaving without him.

Cameron was also there and as usual I was expected to sit right next to him. I stood frozen by my chair, staring at him like I was seeing him for the first time – and in a way I was, it was the first time I saw him while knowing what he really was; knowing what was behind the façade of sophistication and self-control.

"Duo," He started.

His voice sounded different to me now.

"Tabytha told me you were home late, today. Something about the school's football team?" He inquired innocently. He sat back to make room as Tabytha served him dinner.

"Yeah." I pulled out my chair and sat down slowly, distrustingly. For some reason I feared he could look right into me and see in my eyes that I knew the truth. And I feared he would reach across the table and choke the life out of me because of it. But he remained perfectly gentlemanly and appeared oblivious to my inner turmoil.

He chuckled and shook his head at my less than eloquent response. "Do you have any interest in joining the team?"

I shrugged and scrunched up my face when Tabytha deposited a large serving on my plate. "Maybe."

"You don't strike me as the jock." He was mocking me, it wasn't hard to tell. He was following-up on his display of force from yesterday, wanting to drive home the message that I would be powerless against him.

"You're right. I'm more the dark, angry kid that is going to end up stabbing somebody," I shot back and I wrapped my fingers around the handle of my knife.

He laughed at what he believed to be a joke. "Let's hope the principle never calls me to say you've stabbed your schoolmates."

I hadn't been referring to my schoolmates but it would be dangerous to correct him. I picked up my fork as well and started cutting my food, with no intention whatsoever to consume it. My stomach was way too sensitive to deal with food now.

"Speaking of school. Are you and Heero working on any more projects together?"

I could see my brother was about to tell him that we didn't have any assignments together for now for our Physics class, but I was quick to say: "Actually yeah, we're working on something."

Heero glared at me warningly.

"How is it going?" The perfect, interested father asked.

"I have hope that it's going to turn out well. For the moment we don't see eye-to-eye to though," I said ambiguously.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I think Heero is wrong. I think Heero is very wrong."

Cameron scoffed. "Heero is hardly ever wrong," He defended matter-of-factly. "Heero is smarter than everyone in his class."

He didn't have to say it, I could feel the 'including you' in the air, hanging over my head. I didn't say anything, just spent the next twenty minutes pushing my food around without anyone asking me why I wasn't eating. Tabytha nor Cameron took interest, not in me and not in Heero, who also wasn't eating. Tabytha fulfilled her duty of filling the silence with her opinions on trivial matters and irrelevant people and Cameron fulfilled his duty of pretending to listen; offering nods and 'hmhm's' every once in a while

When the dinner-ritual came to a thankful end I hurried back up to my room. I was about to slam the door shut behind me but as I turned around to do so I saw Heero's angry face and his presence surprised me so much I flinched.

He pushed his way into my room and he was the one to slam the door shut. With his back turned towards me he took a minute. His shoulders were tense and his fists were clenched at his sides.

It took him to so long to look back at me that I started to get worried. I was about to gently ask him why he was in my room when he spun around and focused that close-to-lethal glare on me.

"Why are you here? Why did you come back?" He demanded.

I released the breath I had been holding. "I'm here for you."

"I'm fine," He insisted. "I don't need you here. I don't want you here."

"You are not fine," I shot back.

He snorted agitatedly. "You don't know me."

"I know enough."

He practically snarled: "You are only going to get us in trouble. Just leave, live your life. Let me live mine, the way I see fit."

I shook my head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because my mom wouldn't want me to."

"Your mother is dead."

I reeled back, the cold statement was like a punch in my already upset gut. I tried to explain: "When my mom took me away from here, she didn't know he would replace me. The fact that someone had to suffer in my stead… She wouldn't wish what would have been my fate on anybody. I just want both her and I to be able to rest easy." I deflated, I felt so sorry and guilty, even more so when I stared into his cold eyes. "I want you to get the same chance I got, the chance to be safe."

He rolled his eyes, completely unaffected by my words or the sight of me trembling and nearly in tears. "You can't save me," He stated dryly, clearly implying he didn't want to be saved; felt like he didn't need to be saved. "But you can still save yourself. If he finds out that you know, he is going to make sure you keep it a secret."

I balled my hands into fists. "Maybe I should just go to the police."

Heero let out a single, dark laugh. "I wonder why that didn't work out for your mother back in the day. Maybe it has something to do with the fundraiser your grandfather organizes for the National Association of Police Organizations every year, or the weekly games of golf with the state senator, or the fact that Cameron was the mayor's best friend in college… He's bulletproof. Besides, if you are stupid enough to go to the police and let Cameron know that you need some 'disciplining', I'm going to tell them you are lying, because I am not going to let you get me into trouble."

I stared at him with a forlorn expression.

"Either leave, or leave me out of it." On that final note he spun around, ripped the door open and stomped out.

I stared into thin air, trying to make sense of him and trying to make sense of myself. I felt like I was setting myself up for failure, the case appeared hopeless.

Finally I took that shower I had been craving. I set the water on the highest temperature I could stand and started stripping out of my clothes. When the button-fly of my black jeans wasn't cooperating I got so frustrated that I gave up on the task and stepped under the spray still wearing them. Under the onslaught of hot water I undid my braid to prevent it from becoming a tangled mess. Steam rose and filled the bathroom, the heat surrounded me and was sucked into my lungs with each panicked breath. I was scared. Scared for my safety and for Heero's well-being. I had never been scared like that before, I had my mom to thank for that. I didn't know how to deal with it, I didn't know how to turn all these negative emotions into something useless, I was just left feeling utterly helpless.

With my hand against the tiled wall to keep myself balanced I sagged down to the floor of the bathroom stall.

I cried. I missed my mother. I realized that without her, utterly helpless was exactly what I was. That frightened me because I couldn't fail Heero. I had to help him, even though I had no idea how. If I didn't, he would be lost, if he wasn't already. It was a horror to imagine what Cameron must have done to him all those years for him to turn out the way he had. And he wasn't done torturing him yet, I had no doubt given the state in which Heero returned from the 'fishing trip'. Which begged the question if Cameron would ever leave him alone, the way Heero believed, the way he had to believe to keep himself going. Would going off to college really be the ticket to freedom as my disturbed brother imagined? I found it hard to believe.

I had to convince him that he wasn't 'fine', but the task appeared insurmountable with the way Heero had compartmentalized and rationalized everything. I wished I could just leave, it would be easier and normally I was all about doing things the easy way – I supposed Heero was right about that one – but I would not be able to live with myself.

For the time being all I could do was run interference, to protect Heero against his own will and that was exactly what I was going to do.

I got myself off on shaky legs and struggled out of my jeans to wash myself properly.

Before I went to bed I locked the door as I always did but I also pushed my dresser in front of my door, just enough to ensure it could not easily be forced open. What Heero had told me about 'our father' being untouchable was unsettling, especially because I believed every word. After all, Cameron had also managed to make the 'troubles' his son had had with the P.E. teacher go away and Ruby also mentioned that police wouldn't believe my mother when she tried to report him. It had me thinking that he could do anything to me and get away with it.

He could beat me and convince others bullies at school had gotten to me.

He could kill me and just tell the officials I ran away.

I didn't get any sleep that night.

The next morning I was so hungry that I felt like I could actually eat. Lying awake all night clutching my growling stomach, too afraid to go downstairs in the dark to get myself something from the kitchen, was a feeling and a memory I liked to bury underneath a pile of syrupy pancakes, or waffles with powdered sugar.

On the menu that morning: French toast.

That'll do, I thought as I greedily sucked in the smell, that'll do.

My stomach got knotted up a little at the sight of Heero and Cameron seated next to each other at the breakfast table hiding behind their newspaper sections of choice. If the situation wasn't so fucked up their shared interest in worldly events might have been endearing.

"Good morning, Duo, did you sleep well?" Tabytha placed a plate in front of me as I took my assigned seat.

"Fine." I dug into my breakfast, working it into my mouth with obnoxiously large bites. My cheeks were bulging as I struggled to chew while keeping my mouth closed like the proper young man I wasn't.

"Aren't you going to say anything about how Heero looks today?" She prodded unsubtly when she joined us at the table, by the time I had nearly finished my meal.

I looked up from the last bite left on my plate. All I saw was the recycled paper with small black script and Heero's fingers on either side, holding it in front of him.

"I convinced him to wear the clothes he bought this weekend. You have very good taste, Duo," Tabytha explained.

"Yes, Heero looks great," Cameron chimed in.

Just like that I didn't covet that final mouthful anymore. I pushed my plate away from me and washed down my hurried breakfast by gulping down the entire content of the glass of orange juice I had been served.

Heero lowered the newspaper just enough so he could glare at me, obviously resenting me for pestering him into buying those clothes, now that everyone was making such a fuss about it.

"You two should go shopping again," Tabytha continued "Duo, I'd happily put you in charge of putting together a whole new wardrobe for Heero. You have a real eye for it."

I caught Cameron's smirk and Tabytha's blush. Before she could apologize for the implication, I questioned: "A queer-eye?"

My brother slammed the paper down on the table. "Could we please stop talking about this? I feel silly enough as it is." He was indeed wearing the nicely fitting button-up shirt I had pushed him into purchasing.

"You shouldn't feel silly!" His adoptive mother assured him. "Clothes like this should make you feel confident, if you look as good as you do wearing them that is. People will look at you differently, you'll see. You'll like it." From her expression it was clear she was reliving her own glory days when she was revered for her beauty – a beauty she now desperately clung to and dulled with layers of make-up and pre-mature Botox treatments.

"I doubt it," He growled. "I'm heading out." He shot up from his chair and walked across the kitchen to retrieve his backpack from the cooking island.

I couldn't help but stare, even as I realized how horrible that was, looking at him like that, knowing what I knew.

"The concept is good, but the execution leaves to be desired. Here," Cameron got up and approached his son, "let me help." He started rolling up both sleeves to just above the elbow and then he reached down at Heero's waist, pinching the fabric of his shirt between his fingers, just above the hem of the tight jeans, and started pulling the shirt out – Heero had tucked it in again, like he had at the store.

My trembling, white knuckled fists lay in my lap as I watched. If I didn't know what I did, I wouldn't think twice about a father adjusting his son's clothes, but all I could see was Cameron starting to undress him. It was how all those haunting flashes that plagued me since the day before started.

He stepped back and admired his 'work'. "There, that looks much 'cooler'," He remarked glibly.

"I agree, much more age-appropriate," Concurred his wife.

"Thanks,"Heero grumbled. He shot me a look, a warning look, then he slung one strap of his backpack over his shoulder and headed into the garage to get his bike and head to school.

I wiped my mouth on a napkin, feeling sick again, with my hastily consumed breakfast making matters worse. "I should go too."

"Have a nice day," The couple said in unison, paying little attention to me as I scampered out of the kitchen.

I stepped outside just as Heero was mounting his bike on the driveway. "Hey! Wait up! We can walk to school together."

He scoffed and then pushed off, pedaling away.

I jogged after him, calling his name, but soon gave up, he was too fast.

I had no choice but to go to school and pretend that everything was normal, that everything was perfect. But the entire day I was in conflict with myself, wondering if I was making a mistake by not reaching out to anyone. Clearly I was in over my head, I had no idea what to do, I wasn't the best guy for the job. Yet every time the words threatened to burst out of me whenever a teacher would just look at me, I bit down on my lip and kept quiet. I didn't doubt for a second that it was in both Heero's and my best interest to keep this quiet – I trusted Heero's warnings and I trusted my own instincts. But it wasn't easy doing this by myself.

I didn't want to get Ruby too involved. I couldn't risk her rushing in with the best intentions and pretty much running face-first into the protective, impermeable wall Cameron had built around himself. My position as the 'inside man' was probably the best approach.

Care had to be taken that I wouldn't let Cameron poison me while I was focused on Heero. I may not be as easily manipulated as an eight year old, defenseless child, but I imagined monsters like my father had their ways of getting into anybody's head. The fact that he had gotten away with everything so far was testament to that.

For most of the duration of the gym class I was distracted by thoughts regarding Tabytha's involvement in and awareness of the matter. How much did she know? It was hard to believe she was completely ignorant of the abuse that went on in her own house but I didn't rule out the possibility that she was left completely in the dark. She wasn't the most observant, nor was she all that interested in the well-being of her child. Besides, there is a reason the saying goes: The wife is always the last to know. I could imagine the sheer, subconscious reluctance to see this horrible truth was enough to leave the eyes blind for all intents and purposes.

If she did know and she just let it happen… That thought made me start to feel sick again, so much so that I benched myself halfway into a competitive hockey game. How could anybody stand by idly and watch such horrors take place? It was unimaginable, but I knew the world was full of sicko's like Cameron and equally full of people who gave those kind of monsters the freedom to pursue their abhorrent desires.

At the end of the day – with quite a headache from overthinking the situation – I waited for Heero by the bike stands. He had made it perfectly clear he didn't want to talk to me, but part of my admittedly crude plan was to force my way in. At school was the best place for us to talk honestly, about as far away from Cameron as we could be. As more and more people came and went, the amount of bikes left in the stands thinned gradually, until Heero's blue bike was one of the only ones left.

I went looking for him, more so because I was tired of waiting then due to concern for him. His safety was in jeopardy at the house, at school he was about as safe as he could be as long as he refused to cooperate and just leave with me.

Several wings of the school building were already locked off. Most students went home already. Home, where they were safe, where they were loved, where nothing more was expected of them but to do their best in school and to honor the curfew.

I tried going upstairs to the classroom where I knew the chess-club would meet up regularly, but was ushered back downstairs by the janitor who was already sweeping the scuffed and faded red linoleum clean.

With a shrug I gave up and went back outside, walking past the bike stands. I had every intention of going back to the house but as I was halfway across the courtyard towards the front gate the site of Heero's blue bike being the only one left at that point gnawed at me and I stopped in my tracks.

Students may have fled home, but teachers would still be present in the building. Heero alone with teachers gave me an uneasy feeling. What if he had gotten another A-, that he was displeased with and sought to amend?

I had told myself I wasn't only going to try to protect him from Cameron, but from his own twisted judgment as well and that probably also meant preventing him from engaging in scandalous extracurricular activities. Perhaps I should pick my battles, but as long as I could make some kind of difference, I figured I had – from that point on – a moral obligation to try.

So with my responsibilities weighing down on me I headed back inside, grumbling under my breath. I didn't really look forward to 'walking in' on something.

On my way to the teachers' lounge I passed the opening to the hallway heading towards the locker rooms, indoor gym and storage and the sport fields out back. I heard laughter coming down the corridor and figured a varsity team of whatever kind of sport had finished practice and the rowdy bunch was showering and getting dressed. I continued along my way, but about twenty paces later I heard multiple sets of quickened footfalls and then echoing shouts:

"Get him!"

I looked over my shoulder and saw the flash of a figure sprinting out of the hallway leading to the fields and bursting through the double doors leading to the cafeteria. It was only a split second, but the blur was white and light blue and I instantly knew it was Heero, wearing the clothes I had forced him to buy. Chasing him was a group of three or four guys in varsity jackets.

With my black all-stars squeaking I pivoted on my heels and raced after them, through the cafeteria and through the long hallway back to where I had been before: the bike stands. Just as the door fell shut behind the group of – four – bullies I saw the quickest of them had caught up with Heero and had his arms wrapped around him, restraining him. Seeing that his white blouse was unbuttoned, his chest and abdomen exposed, infuriated me.

Without pause I threw the door open, catching all four of them by surprise.

"It's the other Maxwell!" One of them ridiculed.

It was the group of bullies I had encountered before, their leader, being a snotty jock called Brody.

"Why is his shirt open?" I seethed.

"We were just admiring Heero's pretty, pretty clothes when my friend noted they were so tight he might as well be naked," Brody quipped. "How did you put it?"

"It leaves nothing to the imagination," Reiterated the one holding my step-brother.

I gave Heero a quick once-over trying to judge if he was hurt, it struck me how calm he was, he wasn't even struggling in the near-choke-hold of the bigger guy.

"Right," Drawled Brody, approaching the captive. "No doubt a special outfit put together for a special occasion. Tell me, Heero, did you get another A-?"

Disturbingly it was that remark – the insinuation of him receiving a sub-par grade – that riled Heero up. He spat the bully right in the face when he made the mistake of leaning in too close.

He wiped his hand across his face, cleaning off the spit with disgust. "You fucking whore!"

I could tell he was about to hit him in retaliation so I stepped in and grabbed his arm. "Calm your shit, Cody," I said, purposefully getting him name wrong to antagonize him. It was better to get him to shift his focus to me.

Brody turned right around and hit me square in the face with his balled fist.

Unprepared, unable to protect or brace myself, I fell backwards onto the cold, paved ground and for a moment my vision was blurred as my left eye started to throb.

They laughed at me and one of them started counting like a referee at a wrestling match.

Brody decided they had had enough fun and instructed the other to let go of Heero. The group started to leave, but not before one of them kicked me in the side while I was still down.

"These faggots don't even put up a fight. It's no fun that way," Remarked Brody as they casually walked away.

With a grunt I propped myself up on my elbows and looked up at Heero who was buttoning up his shirt, glaring at me like I had done something wrong.

"You are even more stupid than I gave you credit for," He bit.

I sat up and paused, dealing with a swelling headache. Sarcastically I retorted: "You're welcome."

"Stop trying to help me, it's only making matters worse."

"Oh come on!" I argued, "If it weren't for me you would have been the one with a shiner, friend."

"This is all your fault to begin with. If you hadn't insisted on these clothes…"

"Oh, sure. I'm the villain in this story," I grumbled as I got up. I gestured dramatically. "Not the bullies. Not the predatory adoptive father! No, the step-brother who gives fashion advice, he's the bad guy!"

Heero walked away while I was still talking, heading back into the building.

"Hey, where the fuck are you going?"

"To get my jacket and my bag, you buffoon."

After heaving a sigh I trailed after him, much to his dismay.

"What are you doing?" He shot over his shoulder.

"I'm here to protect you," I replied, pausing for gravitas. "I get that you don't like that, but that is only because you won't even acknowledge that you need protection. If you saw things clearly, you'd realize I'm an ally, not an enemy."

"All you are is a complication." He turned around to fixate his cold glare on my. "I want you to stay away from me."

I balled my fists at my side as I stood my ground. "Tough. I don't care what you want. You don't see things clearly enough to know what is right for you."

"Leave me alone!" He demanded hoarsely.

"No!" I stomped my foot to emphasize my point. "We are going to be best-fucking-friends. We are going to spend every waking hour together, at school and at home!"

Heero scoffed. "You can't make me-"

"We are going to be attached at the hip and you are going to grin and bear it," I continued authoritatively. "If you avoid me, if you shut me out, I'm going to tell Cameron that I know everything. And I'm going to tell him that you told me," I threatened boldly in a last ditch attempt. My words seemed to have effect on him, so I continued: "That is going to unleash a shit-storm of trouble, but it's going to rain down on you just as hard as it will on me. I'm pretty sure you won't like that. I'm pretty sure you would like to avoid that."

Heero's eyes widened, nearly imperceptibly.

"Come on, Heero. You said you understood things come at a cost." Seeing his expression twitch as he struggled to deal with and hide his inner turmoil I felt horrible. I didn't want to further traumatize the kid and become another demanding figure in his life, but in the heat of the moment it was the only thing that came to me. I had to believe the end justified the means. If becoming Heero's shadow would prove to be a successful way to keep Cameron at arm's length I had to believe that that was worth that torn expression on his face and the fact that he would mistrust me the same way a child would mistrust shadows.

Rather than giving him the time to regain his composure, reject my logic and be ultimately unimpressed by my threat, I caught up to him. "Let's go get your jacket. And then we're going to walk home together and we are going to spend the entire evening in your room. Together." I headed back towards the locker rooms.

He trailed after me. "Why in my room?" He asked pathetically.

"It's more private. I'm assuming privacy is exactly why Cameron gave you the space over the garage." Was my matter-of-fact reply.

"Why do I get the impression you want to mark my room as your territory?"

"Because I do." I figured becoming part of Heero's personal space was a sound strategy to keep Camoeron out of it. Me being in Heero's room would communicate a new level of closeness in our relationship – even though it was still a sham – and I hoped that would make Cameron more cautious. I had every intention of bullying Heero into frequent, impromptu sleep-overs as well, to discourage Cameron from thinking of paying Heero a visit in the night, because he would never know when I would or wouldn't be there. I knew Heero claimed Cameron didn't sleep with him anymore, but I didn't believe him. How could a sicko like him stop? And what was the meaning of that fishing trip other than more privacy to do things I didn't want to think about?

My brother collected his things from the boy's locker room where the bullies had cornered him before. Walking next to his bike he stayed at my side as we headed back to the house. The atmosphere between us was uneasy at best but I couldn't let that deter me. This wasn't going to be pleasant for either of us but ultimately it would be for both our well-being, so he wouldn't get abused anymore and so I ease my own guilt and live with myself, knowing what I knew.

"Can I ask you something?"

He snorted. "Could I stop you?"

No, obviously. "Why did you run away from those bullies? Why didn't you just let them do to you whatever they wanted? You let Cameron do whatever he wants."

"I don't get anything in return for letting those bullies mistreat me," He answered plainly.

"Maybe… Although… Running away from them only aggravated them, which probably only made it worse. They might go easier on you if you don't fight back. So you could say you would benefit from just letting them have their way with you."

He gave me an odd sideways look. "I thought you insisted on staying here to protect me, yet now you are encouraging me to submit to those brutes?"

I shook my head. "I'm not encouraging you to do anything, I just want to understand."

"The difference between how they would treat me if I let them and how they would treat me if I fight back is negligible, so I might as well defend myself for the sake of my dignity."

"And what of your dignity with regards to Cameron?" I shot back.

He stopped to focus his impressive glare on me. "I don't understand why it is so difficult for you to grasp. It is a simple matter of weighing the pros and cons."

His monotonous, uncaring tone still frightened me. "But what he does to you-"

"Did," He argued.

"Sure, whatever," I dismissed, not believing him. "What he did to you… how could that possibly be outweighed by anything else? I would rather starve and sleep in a pool of my own waste than let someone do that to me."

His face contorted into a mean and disgusted expression. "You don't know what it was like. If you did, I think you would decide differently."

He started walking away so I followed him. "Then tell me what it was like," I challenged, "Help me understand."

"There is no point." He climbed onto his bike.

I jogged to catch up with him and grabbed the back wheel before he could speed off. "Fine, don't tell me, but let me tell you this: No matter how bad it was for you before you were adopted, it won't necessarily be like that again if you ran away. If we could get help-"

"I've made up my mind, Duo!" He yelled over his shoulder, "I know what I want out of this life and I know how to get it." He tried to push off and pedal away, but I held on.

"But that's the most fucked-up part! You don't know what you want, you can't possibly know what you want, or else you wouldn't settle for this. He has twisted your way of thinking. The most important things in life are not money, or a roof over your head, or a warm bed. Life is about finding love, self-worth and peace of mind."

He scoffed at my lecture. "You are such a child. If there is one thing I would have expected the death of your mother to teach you it's that we don't live in an ideal world. We have to make compromises or else we get nothing out of life."

"Not these kinds of compromises…" I pleaded. My entire body tensed up when he let out a chilling cackle.

"Stop pretending that this is the worst thing in the world. There are worse things than sex."

"But he doesn't have sex with you, he rapes you!"

"Not anymore!" He shouted back, getting angry again.

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it's the truth!" He got off his bike and kicked it to the ground, exceedingly impatient with my lacking ability to understand and accept his logic. "Cameron hasn't had sex with me in years." He chuckled darkly at my perplexed expression as I realized he was telling me the truth but I couldn't make any sense of it. "Cameron likes young boys," He explained matter-of-factly.

A shiver ran down my spine.

"I'm too old for him and have been for a while now." There was a bitterness to his tone that made me tremble almost violently. He let out another scoff. "You don't know a damn thing. Stop meddling in business you know nothing about." Heero leaned over and picked his bike up from the ground and started walking along. After a few steps he stopped and turned around. "Are you coming?" He asked impatiently.

I stared at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"We both know you are just going to weasel your way back into my life again, no matter how often we fight. We might as well get it over with. It gets boring."

After a heartbeat's worth of hesitation I went after him, dragging my feet and letting my head hang low.

This definitely wasn't going to be pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been COMPLETED! You can read the full story here:
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7799286/1/Brothers
> 
> I will upload all remaining chapters on this site as well, but it's a bit of a chore and currently I have no more time to spare. So in case you've reached this point before I've had a chance to post the last chapters, you can finish reading the story on fanfiction.net. Sorry for the inconvience, I thought I had enough time to upload everything in one go.


	11. Chapter 11

**Brothers**

**Chapter 11**

I imagined my patience as a pencil. It could get dull pretty quickly, but it could be sharpened. Around Heero, however, I snapped that pencil in my frustrated fist. He had a special way of grinding my gears. What bugged me most about him was the fact that he still believed I was the crazy one for thinking that it's not okay to let an adoptive parent rape you in exchange for future college tuition. He called me childish. He called me naïve. He called me selfish. He called me lethargic. I couldn't get him to understand that the end didn't justify the means in that particular case and because I didn't understand he called me ignorant and dimwitted on top of everything else.

Spending more time with him was a challenge. He grudgingly allowed my presence in his room, but he would barely acknowledge me. If any words were exchanged between us, they were insults. I had reached a point beyond pity. I was convinced he was insane. Not in the funny, cutesy, lighthearted way either, no; clinically insane. Although 'insane' probably wasn't the politically correct term for it. Neither was 'cold-hearted asshole' but those words repetitively sprang to mind anyway. Sometimes though, during one of our long, awkward silences, I would look at him, sitting at his desk – back straight, the hand holding his pen was tense, his mouth was tight – and he would look human to me again and the hardship that he had been subjected to smacked me across the face and I would struggle with tears. Fortunately, I could always count on Heero demonizing himself by throwing another gut-wrenching, demeaning comment my way and that actually made it easier for me to look him in the eyes. It was for the better, I knew. If you beat and abuse a puppy too much, he can turn out one of two ways; he can become an aggressive beast, or he can become a terrified, broken animal. I preferred seeing Heero bite back, even if he was snapping his jaws and bearing his teeth to the wrong person. I wouldn't want him to be broken because I didn't have faith he could come back from that. I still had faith in him now, enough so to not give up on him.

We had another project due for Physics that we were supposed to do together, but Heero insisted on doing it by himself and I had decided not to argue with him. I had to pick my battles more carefully or we would always be fighting and I would never catch him without his armor on.

So he sat at his desk and I lounged on the floor, leaning my back against the side of the bed. I hadn't dared to sit on the bed after I first made the mistake of doing so. He absolutely freaked out and in hindsight I realized it had been a stupid, uninformed liberty to take. I should have known better. But since that incident I had been inching closer and closer to the bed, to push the boundaries. I wasn't going to sit on it again anytime soon though. It was horrible to see him like that. He had been downright panicked but he overshadowed that with his immense, terrifying anger.

At least things had cooled down a little since then. I could handle the insults, but I couldn't stand being looked at the way he looked at me when I naively dropped down onto his perfectly made bed.

"How is the project coming along?"

"I'm worried."

"Oh?"

"The teacher is never going to believe that you helped me on this. I might have to add typo's on purpose," He said dryly.

"Thanks." I stuck my tongue out at him, even though he had his back towards me. "Jackass." I said it loud enough for him to hear.

I could tell Heero tensed up as much as I did at the sound of footsteps becoming increasingly louder; the telltale sign that someone was coming up the stairs. The door opened abruptly, without the courtesy of a knock, let alone waiting for permission to enter. It was Cameron. It always was. I had noticed Tabytha never came up to Heero's room. Cameron – the perverted asshole – sometimes tried to sneak his way upstairs, trying to make it up the steps unheard so he could catch us completely off guard. It never really worked the way he expected, Heero's hearing had proven itself to be excellent. Clearly the bastard was making sure nothing was going on between us.

"Hello, boys." He invited himself into the room. "What are you doing?"

"Writing a report," The Japanese boy answered dutifully, without ever turning around in his seat to face his adoptive father.

"Isn't Duo helping?" He questioned, looking down at me.

"I did my part," I retorted vaguely.

Cameron was hardly interested. He probably figured that Heero had taken control over all our shared school projects and that I had let him and he was most likely perfectly fine with that. He didn't like the idea of us getting too close anyway; just close enough for Heero to keep me in check, sure, but not so close that I could influence his prized son. He stalked across the room and closely stood behind Heero, leaning forward to look over his shoulder at what he was typing on his laptop, feigning interest in the subject. A painful knot formed in my stomach as I watched him lay his big hand on Heero's shoulder. Sometimes I worried that he might know and that those little gestures and touches served as a warning towards me. But I suspected Cameron was too vain and thought himself as too smart to ever get caught. I wouldn't have been surprised if the thought had never even occurred to him that his secret could get out; he was, after all, too intelligent, too cunning and too powerful.

Not so much, asshole, I thought, gritting my teeth at the display I witnessed.

"It's looking good," He complimented. "Don't forget to adjust the margins."

Heero and I both rolled our eyes at that, the downside was that Cameron couldn't see Heero do it, but he did see me do it and he glared at me. I pressed my back tightly against the side of the bed, wishing the piece of furniture wasn't there so I could crawl backwards, as far away from him as the room allowed. He frightened me more and more every day.

With distrustful eyes I watched him leave and close the door behind him. It was quiet for a long time. Too quiet. He was listening just outside the door, but eventually he left with barely audible footfalls.

"He gives me the creeps." I shuddered violently.

"You should get used to it."

"No," I asserted. "I shouldn't. You shouldn't have either."

"You should show some gratitude. He is taking care of you. And if you had a smidgen of ambition he would finance your further education as well."

I took notice of his bitter tone. I frowned at the back of his head. "That pisses you off, doesn't it?"

He looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"It pisses you off that he is giving me food and shelter and pays for schooling without having me pay the same price as you."

He snorted and turned around. "You are delusional if you think he is even remotely interested in you."

I should be relieved to hear that, but for some reason it rubbed me the wrong way. "Why? Wouldn't I be good enough?"

He sighed impatiently. "You are too old for him, just like me."

"Right. But admit it, it pisses you off."

For a while he didn't respond until he swiveled around in the desk chair to look at me with dead eyes. "Honestly, I'm not sure that he won't make you pay, in some way. Just because he hasn't demanded anything in return yet, doesn't mean he won't in the future."

I stared at him, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. I wasn't sure if he was giving me a genuine warning or if he was saying those things to frighten me and to get me riled up. I still remembered Cameron telling me he could take me to go fishing someday. It had been a clear threat. But how could Heero say I was too old for him yet at the same time imply that I would have to pay for my current life of 'luxury'? "Heero, what happens on those fishing trips?"

His expression was unreadable but that frightened me no less. "Let's hope you will never have to find out." He turned around and continued working on the report, brushing off the incredibly disturbing topic of discussion with ease.

"I want to come with you next time. You need to make that happen, when the time comes."

He shot an appropriately doubtful look over his shoulder, not understanding why I would insist on tagging along.

"I'm pretty sure that if I'm there with you, he won't dare to do anything. He knows he hasn't got me completely under his thumb yet."

"Yet," He emphasized dryly.

"I'm coming with you next time," I decided.

"Don't hold your breath. We only head out there twice a year and last time was the second time. We won't go again until spring."

"What? Winter isn't a good time for 'fishing'?"

He didn't reply, instead he focused his attention on his work.

I kept pressing though. It felt a little like twenty-questions, but as scared as I was of the truth, I needed to know, so I didn't shy away from actively pursuing answers. "So he has like a cabin or something?" I could hear my 'brother' grumbling under his breath, but he amused me, if only because I had previously asserted some power over him with my threat to tell Cameron everything. It was not a method I enjoyed relying on, I hated myself for it in fact, but it was the only way to force him to interact with me and to be honest – although not very forthcoming – with me.

"He owns a cabin upstate."

"Is it remote?"

"Remote but accessible."

"What's it like?"

"Cabin-y."

I made a face at his less-than-eloquent and characteristically antagonist reply. "Big? Small? Moose head mounted on the wall?"

"No."

I sighed. "No, what?"

"It's a stag."

"Oh, fuck this." I threw my hands up in defeat. "Why won't you just tell me?"

Monotonously he shot off: "Because I know you will never understand. And anything I tell you, you might just use against me."

My heart sank. I hated that he didn't trust me and that I had made it so. Although sometimes I did agree with the saying that the end justifies the means, these 'means' seemed to be taking me in a different direction than what was my intention and who knew where we would 'end' up? "I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry."

"I am sorry!," I gritted through my teeth angrily. "I'm sorry you are such a cold asshole that I have to be a cold asshole as well to get through to you!" That didn't come out like the sincere apology I had meant to offer.

"You are not sorry. And you shouldn't be. You shouldn't have to apologize for being a 'cold asshole'. Being cold is what is going to get you through life."

"Well, excuse me, but I prefer to be in the lukewarm range."

"Fine," He sneered. Clearly he believed I was setting myself up for failure in life, but I could hardly be insulted by Heero not approving of my lifestyle. I should consider myself perfectly fine if I ended up living my life as a complete opposite to Heero's chosen path. I just wished I could make him realize he had other options; he didn't have to go through life letting other people abuse him and shutting off so he could take it.

"Do you want to go do something tomorrow, after school?" I casually inquired, hoping to change the tense atmosphere between us.

"Homework?"

I made a face, but he wasn't even looking at me. "No. Something fun."

"You mean something useless?"

I shrugged and innocently argued: "Well, granted, most of the time doing something fun doesn't really amount to anything you can put on your résumé. You won't end up fluent in Chinese or with a degree in astrophysics, but it's not 'useless' in the sense that it is a waste of your time."

"How can something possibly not be a waste if you don't get anything in return?"

I smirked, at least I had managed to engage him. "You do get something in return; stress-relief, a good mood, improved physical fitness – if we play ball or something…"

"I'm not stressed, I prefer my emotional character to be leveled, not oscillating between positive and negative and I've never had any complaints regarding my physical fitness."

Rubbing my temples I fought the deplorable vision of Heero in the tight clothes I had selected for him, imagining the kind of 'physical fitness' underneath. I shouldn't be thinking of him like that! "Look, okay, the fitness thing… fine… But you can't convince me that you do not have a serious need for a good laugh. You remind me of those feral children that have grown up in darkness and silence who lost the ability to smile or express emotion."

"God willing I will achieve that level of indifference."

I started to laugh, even though his comment was deeply saddening. His dry tone and the unbelievable nature of the remark somehow made it sound like a sarcastic joke. And who knew? I liked to believe in the possibility.

Heero looked over his shoulder, completely bewildered. "Why are you laughing?"

"You just made a joke."

His brows furrowed. "No. I didn't."

"You 'totes' did, bru!"

His befuddlement was amusing. "I have no idea what you just said. But I know what I said and it was not a joke. I do not joke."

I kept laughing, his expression – teetering on a tightrope, swaying between anger and puzzlement – was priceless.

He huffed indignantly and turned back to his laptop.

"Look, whether you like it or not, we are going to do something useless tomorrow."

"Fine! Just please let me finish this!"

Mission accomplished, I thought proudly. Thankfully it appeared he was susceptible to more than threats, I could also pester him into agreeing with me. The method wouldn't be any more pleasant for him but at least it was less immoral.

Since I had made it so I was the one in charge in the uneasy relationship I had little trouble convincing Heero to come see a movie with me after school. It was like training your dog, although I was reluctant to draw the comparison, but it seemed like now that I had established myself as the dominant one, Heero submitted to my lead – grudgingly, but still. He had figured the pointlessness of arguing with me and he was not the type of guy to engage in anything pointless. Heero was purposeful in everything he did; every word he spoke, every movement he made. It was another hurdle we would have to overcome if I ever wanted us to be closer, or any kind of approximation of 'brotherly', because I liked being quite wasteful with my time and efforts, rambling on incessantly and always doodling ugly figurines and shapes in the corners of my notebook or – in the absence of an empty square inch of paper – on the back of my hand.

"Did you let Tabytha know we would be home late?" He wondered dutifully as he followed me through the local shopping center to the movie theater that was just on the other side.

"Nope." I could imagine the displeased face he was making. Tabytha wasn't very strict as far as rules were concerned, but Cameron's wish was command in the household and the rule was that we had to tell Tabytha of all our comings and goings. I had a problem with authority to begin with, but I always did my best to follow the rules when they were laid down by my mother, because I knew those rules were made with my wellbeing in mind. Cameron's rules, however, were only there to keep tabs on us, to keep us under his thumb and considering why he liked to keep a short leash, I had no qualms breaking his rules, in fact, I felt morally compelled to rebel against him.

After a lengthy, contemplative silence Heero informed me: "If we don't let Tabytha know where we are she is going to call Cameron."

"So?" I looked over my shoulder with a cheeky grin and saw him biting the inside of his cheek. "Don't worry about it. In fact, give me your cellphone." When he refused I insisted and he handed it over with a roll of his eyes. I switched both our cellphones to airplane mode and slipped them into my jeans' pocket.

"You're going to get us in trouble."

"He'll yell at us a little over dinner tonight. Better to ask forgiveness than permission." Casually brushing off the issue I asked him what kind of movie he was in the mood for.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you like action? Or horror? No, let me guess: you're the romantic-comedy-type!" I slowed my pace to walk next to him, studying his features without much result. "This big, epic action-adventure movie just came out, would you like to see something like that?"

"I don't care."

"Come on! What are you in the mood for?" I elbowed him in his side, but touching him – even so platonically – was a big mistake.

Heero stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with wild eyes while he caught everyone's attention screaming at me: "I'm not in the mood for any of this, okay!"

I tried to shush him, I was worried he would alarm the bystanders and I would get tackled by a mall cop who got the entirely wrong impression of this little spat.

"Let's not pretend any of this is for my benefit! You're being selfish and onerous! We should go back!"

"Would you quiet down before the SWAT's bust in through the sky window and I get neutralized?" I hissed.

He snorted disdainfully and narrowed his eyes at me. "You always think you're so funny."

"I'm only trying to lighten the atmosphere between us."

"Fine. I don't care. Just pick a goddamn movie and we'll go see that." He started towards the entry of the movie theaters.

I had gotten some money from Tabytha the previous week to buy school supplies and she gave me much more than I needed, but rather than giving it back to her like a little boy scout, I had kept the rest of the money and I used it to buy us two tickets to that overhyped movie and the biggest size of buttered popcorn I could afford with the little bit of change that was left. It was clear I had to mind my step around him, but I didn't want things to become even more awkward between us, so I pretended he didn't just express how much he loathed being in my company and made irrelevant, neutral remarks about the décor as we made our way through the building and took our seats in an empty sea of red chairs.

"Do you like these seats? Or do you want us to sit a couple more rows back?"

"It really doesn't matter," He replied gruffly.

"Nah, these are good seats. These are great seats. Oh, look! Cup holders!"

"We don't even have drinks," He helpfully reminded me.

"Still though, these are some class-A seats, nothing I'm used to. When my mom and I went to the movies – you know, when the planets aligned and we had some cash to spare – we went to these rundown places because they were the cheapest and this one place; the seats creaked and the stuffing came out of them and this kid-"

"I really don't care."

"Right." I bit the inside of my cheek, searching for any excuse to keep the 'conversation' going, anything was better than the uneasy silence. "I really wish we had money left for some drinks."

"I'm not thirsty."

"You will be once you dive into these," I angled the popcorn towards him.

The corners of his mouth titled down ever so slightly, nearly imperceptibly. "I don't snack."

I made an appropriately incredulous face at him. "What?"

"I only eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. I don't snack," He clarified.

"That's crazy!"

"I've just never really been interested in food. It is purely a supplement that my body requires. I don't derive any pleasure from the taste of it."

My first instinct was the poke fun at him, but in the context of his abuse-filled life, the revelation was deeply saddening. Did nothing give him joy? Did he have nothing in his life aside from the abuse, the restrictions and the obsessive focus on a 'better future'? I tried to make light of it and jested: "Don't tell me you are going to make me finish this thing all by myself."

"I wouldn't like it anyway."

"You don't even like popcorn?"

"I don't know, I don't snack. But I don't enjoy any kind of food, so why would this be different?"

My brows furrowed. "But… are you telling me you've never tried popcorn? Not ever, in your entire life? You're a popcorn-virgin?" I cringed as I realized how awkward my last observation was given his sexual experiences.

Heero didn't seem to notice and instead just nodded.

"So, you don't really know for sure you won't like it."

"It's simple logic."

I ignored his retort and continued: "What else have you never tried?"

He didn't respond.

"Skittles? Snickers? Twinkies?"

He shrugged and looked ahead at the screen even though there was nothing to be seen yet, the theater was still fully lit and soft music was playing in the background.

"Well, right there is your problem. You should try some treats before you say shit like 'I don't like the taste of food'." I held the popcorn out to him, right under his nose which he scrunched up at the smell. "Take some."

"I don't want to. I don't snack."

"Take some. You know I'll just pester you until you do."

He promptly scooped out a modest handful and glared at me. "Happy now?"

I grinned. "Almost."

After heaving a deep sigh he took one piece into his mouth and chewed it demonstratively.

"And?"

"It's nothing special."

I was about to encourage him to eat more when the light suddenly dimmed and the first of the string of trailers started, drawing my attention. But right before the movie started I noticed in the light of a bright-onscreen explosion that he had finished his handful. Momentarily I admired the profile of his face as he focused up ahead. I placed the popcorn on the armrest between us – he was leaning far away enough to leave plenty of space between us. He didn't take more but I didn't force him. I was content to take things one step at a time, or even the smallest inch forward.

I was enjoying the movie in spite of Heero sighing next to me whenever the main action hero defied the laws of physics, but about an hour in I was suddenly blinded by a bright light. Someone had approached us and had come to stand right beside us without me noticing and shone a bright flashlight right in my face. I squinted to protect my eyes, I could see nothing but the light and in my peripheral vision the indiscriminate movements on the silver screen.

"Heero Maxwell? Duo Maxwell?" A deep voice inquired.

I raised my hand but could still not see whoever it was holding the flashlight. "Yeah?" I turned my head to the side when I heard Heero getting up from his seat with a sigh.

The man commanded: "Exit the theater. Right now."

I got up and followed Heero. The man was right behind me.

Once we were outside in the lit hallway I turned around with an angry expression, getting ready to yell at the theater employee, but the rude comments I had been preparing were stifled by the sight of the man's uniform, and the uniform of his partner walking up to us.

"Uh, is something wrong, police officer?"

His expression was one of unbridled annoyance. "Why did neither of you two answer your cellphones?"

I fished them out of my pocket. "I switched them to airplane mode so as not to disturb the other movie goers. It's very disruptive when someone ringtone goes off during a suspenseful action sequence."

The officers were amused nor impressed by my 'clever' quip.

"I'm sorry, officer, but what's going on? Is something wrong?" I found myself hoping they had come to inform us of the tragic – and gruesome – death of our 'beloved' father, but of course, no such luck.

"Your parents were worried something had happened when you didn't come home. Your father called us to make sure everything was alright. Luckily we were able to find you quickly thanks to the GPS in your cellphones."

I suppressed the disturbed expression that threatened to appear on my face. "Yes, luckily. Well, can you tell them we're fine so we can head back in and catch the end of our movie?"

"I think it will be better if we take you boys home." He placed his hand on my shoulder and escorted me towards the exit. The other remained by Heero's side, who made it very clear he did not want to be touched.

We were taken outside and put in the back of their squad car, like we were goddamned criminals! On our way back, the officer in the passenger seat placed a brief call to the house to let Tabytha know they were taking us home. I was very angry and tense, it radiated from my body, whereas Heero was remarkably calm, leading me to suspect he knew what was going to happen the moment I took his cellphone from him. Sly little asshole, I thought to myself.

We arrived at the house and Heero wasted no time going up to his room. Tabytha thanked the police officers for their help, her impersonation of a concerned mother was quite convincing, although she was a little more flirtatious with the broad-shouldered men than was appropriate for her act. They didn't say much, only a few brief words and curt nods and then they were off again.

I was waiting in the hallway. As soon as Tabytha closed the front door I got up from the seat I had taken on the bottom step of the staircase and confronted her. I could not hide my anger. "What in God's name was that all about?"

"You were supposed to be home at three thirty!"

I glanced at my cheap, plastic watch. It was a quarter to six. "So you send the cops after us? And how long did you even wait, because they found us pretty fucking quickly."

She raised a warning finger in the air. "Mind your language, young man!" She tried to evade the discussion by heading into the kitchen to continue dinner preparations.

I followed her with big strides. "We're a little late and you immediately set up some kind of search-and-rescue effort?"

"Look, Duo, I called both of you and you didn't answer!"

"So you called the cops?"

"So I called Cameron," She shot back.

I scoffed. "Of course. Because you don't even care where we are or what we do, but Cameron has to know everything. It's not normal."

"He is simply being protective of Heero," She defended her husband, "He always has been."

"Yeah, but he protects him as his property, not as his son."

She waved a spatula at him and spilled mushroom sauce everywhere. "That is not fair. He is a very caring father."

I frowned at her. "How can you not know what's going on?"

"What are you talking about?"

I shook my head. "Forget it. I'm done."

"You're damn right you are. Go up to your room! I don't want to see you until dinner!"

"Fine!" I stomped off.

I spent an hour pacing back and forth in my room, wearing down the carpet. Things were even worse than I had imagined. Cameron was holding the reigns very tightly and Tabytha would not be an ally. Whether or not she really was unaware of what was happening right underneath her nose didn't even seem to matter at that point, she wouldn't stand up to her husband no matter what. She was a 'kept' woman who was kept in her place. On top of that, Heero's warning of Cameron's connections to the police force was not more bark than bite. For him to be able to get two officers to track down his sons using the GPS in their cellphones after being 'missing' for less than two hours took some serious clout and alluded to further obstacles I would run into in the future, if I managed to talk Heero into leaving this House o' Horrors with me. And that was a big 'if'.

When I was called downstairs for dinner I dragged my feet, dreading the confrontation with Cameron, Tabytha and Heero, who would all gang up on me. By the time I arrived in the dining room the three of them were already seated. When I sat down Cameron gave a quiet nod by way of giving us permission to eat. We started our dinner and Tabytha started her usual, mundane rambling. Cameron nodded along as he always did, pretending to be listening. Tabytha probably knew he wasn't paying attention and most likely she didn't care. Heero was as quiet and distant as he always was, eating slowly and making faces at his meal.

Were they seriously not going to say anything about what happened that day?

I looked at all of them with wide, confused eyes, but was ignored by everyone. I was thoroughly creeped out by their attitude. I barely managed to take a couple of bites, my appetite was non-existent, but no one commented on it, not even as Tabytha started clearing the table and we were excused.

In a daze I went back to my room. I didn't know what to think of what had happened, whether I should be relieved or more concerned. I turned around to close my bedroom door behind me and yelped when I finally noticed Cameron had followed me upstairs. I stepped back in fear as he stepped inside my room and firmly closed the door.

"I didn't want to say anything over dinner," He started, his tone was polite, yet strangely intimidating. "But obviously we have something to discuss."

"Discuss?"

He smiled and it gave me the shivers. "More like; I talk, you listen and do as I say."

I tried to appear nonchalant while working to swallow the lump in my throat. He scared me, I was no longer ashamed to admit that. I think it was sensible of me to fear him.

"You will never take Heero anywhere, ever again, not without my permission beforehand. You will never go anywhere by yourself without my permission either. Have I made myself understood?"

"We just went to the movies," I tried in vain, managing a crooked smile.

"I don't care where you went!" He suddenly bellowed. "You can't just do whatever you please, there are rules! I don't like you spending this much time with Heero anyway. You will corrupt him."

I snorted. "Corrupt him? You're just jealous."

"I am in charge," He asserted, taking a step closer. "I determine what goes on in this household and what the members of this family do when they leave this house. You will go to school and then you will come straight home, that is it."

"You can't control us like this, it's not fair!"

"I don't need to be fair," He stated definitely. "I provide you with a roof over your head, food on your plate and every piece of shit you call yours, so you do as I say. Heero understands this. Tabytha understands this. You will too." With a smirk he turned around and left, the door closed softly behind him.

I realized I was trembling and my legs felt unsteady. I stepped backwards until I reached the bed and slowly sat down. I stared at the door in fright, I was worried it would slam open again and he would come inside and make me 'understand'. I locked the door and I pushed the cabinet in front of it, going slowly so as not to make too much noise. Rationally, I didn't think he would hurt me, or abuse me. Not yet. And maybe not ever. I suspected he wouldn't take the risk. He could do whatever he wanted to Heero and Tabytha, they were fully cocooned by the web of his lies, manipulation and intimidation. They couldn't speak and they couldn't move and that was so normal for them that they accepted it. He must have known I would struggle and give him a hard time, he wouldn't want to cause trouble like that, he wouldn't want to upset the delicate order he had worked for years to obtain. His caution would protect me, for a while at least. But it wasn't about what Cameron did or did not want, I was going to make sure everything would come crashing down on top of him and he would be left to suffocate under the weight of the debris. I would figure out a way. It was time Cameron would get fucked.

I got the photo-album out of the locked drawer of my desk and stared at a few pictures of my mother to empower myself. On her deathbed she begged me not to let them take me to my father, she begged me to do everything in my power to stay as far away from him as possible, to stay safe. But I was certain she would have felt differently if she had known Cameron had cast a replacement in my absence and Heero was starring in the tragedy that would have been my life if not for her. She would have wanted me to protect him – Hell, I dared to bet she would have come back for him herself, had she known – so I was determined.

The book was safely stashed away and I took a shower before going to bed.

I lay on my back, holding the sheets up to my chin. I was like a child, scared of the ghosts in the closet and the monsters under the bed. I thought of Heero. He may have found strength in his impassiveness as he grew older, but at one point he actually was a scared little boy. Unlike so many other boys he wasn't afraid of the imaginary monster under his bed, he had to fear an actual monster in his bed. And I could still see him standing in the bathroom of our hotel room, his legs bare and rivulets of blood running down the inside of his thighs.

Slowly I started to sink away into Morpheus' world, still thinking about that night.

I walked into the bathroom after Heero had let me in. He was only wearing his white button-up blouse and I could see his black underwear peak out from under the white material. My eyes traveled down his golden thighs and shapely calves. "Why aren't you wearing any pants?"

"I'm going to take a shower."

Suddenly I heard the shower running and I noticed the space was fogged up with hot steam. Wait, what?

Heero walked past me. He was naked now. I turned my head, I didn't want to look, I didn't want to invade his privacy like that, but I saw his nude reflection in the mirror anyway. I frowned. The mirror? That's not right.

Heero stepped under the hot spray of water but didn't close the shower curtain.

I kept staring at the reflection, distantly wondering why the mirror wasn't fogging up, it was practically a sauna in there! I watched his thin, elegant body move as he washed himself, although I wasn't really seeing anything in particular; just a suggestion of skin and limbs and a mop of hair. Embarrassed I shifted my gaze and caught sight of my own reflection in the mirror…

I was Cameron!

I shot up straight in bed, kicking away the sheets as my body broke out in a cold sweat. My breaths came out ragged and fast.

"I'm not like him! I'm not like him!" I twisted my fingers into my hair so tightly it hurt. Why was I dreaming of Heero like that?


	12. Chapter 12

**Brothers**

**Chapter Twelve**

Heero was dressed in the clothes I had picked out for him during the weekend of the wedding. He let his parents practically bully him into wearing them, even though him and I both knew it would earn him unwanted attention at school. I hadn't seen him since breakfast, we hadn't shared any classes that day. Sitting across from him at the dinner table I couldn't help but wonder if anyone at school had looked at him funny, the way I was doing. I couldn't stop staring. The crisp white of the button-front shirt contrasted so nicely with his golden skin. The rolled-up sleeves showed off his thin wrists and toned forearms. The undone buttons at the top expose the hollow of his collar-bone, which I never realized could be sexy, but it was.

I felt horrible for staring at him like that. I couldn't stomach any of the food Tabytha had spent hours preparing, the smell alone made me nauseous.

I was having a lot of disturbing dreams lately. Dreams about Heero, about Cameron and about myself. I was spending a lot of time with Heero during the days, but it was starting to make me uncomfortable because I was becoming aware of certain feelings and attractions that I should clearly condemn. He is, technically, my brother, after all, but most importantly he was the victim of sexual abuse, at the hand of my father! Still, it was impossible not to acknowledge how beautiful he was. His blue eyes were enthralling; his tousled hair was unintentionally sensual; his upper lip had the perfect cupid's bow; his nose was simply pretty, for lack of better words.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I forced my gaze down at my plate. I was pushing food around absentmindedly with the silver fork. The worst thing was that I didn't even like Heero. I couldn't like him, I didn't even understand him. And yet I was having these thoughts and dreams about him. If I had fallen in love with the boy I could imagine feeling less sick about myself, but I wasn't in love with him, it was teenage lust and it frightened me. It frightened me because I had no confidence that I could control it. I feared my desires could possibly cause me to do something that Heero didn't deserve, after all, my father hadn't been able to contain his urges and I was of the same flesh and blood.

I looked up and suddenly became aware of someone staring at me. Glancing to my left I noticed Cameron's gaze, fixed on me. Initially I looked away, startled by the unexpected eye-contact, but when I looked at him again to pretend I wasn't bothered by him a cold shiver ran down my spine when a smug smirk formed on his lips and he raised one eyebrow at me slightly. With a focused frown I aimed my gaze back at my food and waited to be excused.

After dinner I joined Heero in his room. I was struggling to read a book for my English class, the report was due in three days and I was only on the first chapter. Heero only snorted at me when I asked him to google the cliffnotes for me. He had his back turned towards me, his laptop held his undivided attention. I maneuvered myself to lay on my stomach on the floor. The book was spread open in front of me, but I could do little more than carelessly leaf through the pages. I stiffened when Heero swiveled around in his chair and glared at me.

"You're not even reading," He accused.

"What the fuck? I totally am!"

"You're turning the pages far too quickly to actually be able to read anything. I can hear you."

I pressed my nose into the book. "Mind your own business…" I grumbled.

"You are the one who keeps insisting that we spend time together. If we are cooped up in this room all evening, every day, than your business is my business."

I sat up. "Well, than that works both ways!" At his challenging expression I elaborated: "If my business is your business, than logic dictates that your business is mine as well. Tell me about what Cameron does! Or did! Or will do!"

He shook his head and that was it, he turned around again, facing his laptop.

"Fine," I snarled. "But don't meddle in my business either." I folded my arms in front of my chest and continued to glare daggers at the back of his head. Then I started again: "Deep down you know what he has done to you is wrong. You say you are completely okay with it, but if that was the case, you would just tell me. The only reason you're not throwing it in my face is because you're ashamed!"

"I thought we had just agreed to stop meddling."

"You know me," I exclaimed, exasperated, "petty little Duo Maxwell, can't ever make up his mind."

He threw a look over his shoulder. "Why do you even want to know? What does it matter to you? You said yourself that you will be gone the day you turn eighteen. That's not enough for him to do anything, he is not going to force anything, that is too big of a risk. Your safe, so stop worrying."

He was lying to me. "I have every reason to be worried!"

"I can take care of myself."

"This isn't about you!" Was my selfish retort. "He is my father! My father!" I emphasized.

"What are you saying?"

"I have the right to know what kind of footsteps I am stepping into."

He frowned deeply.

"Look, in terms of the whole nature versus nurture debate, I'm pretty convinced nurture has the upper-hand, but that doesn't change the fact that I have Cameron's DNA. What does that say about me?"

"I don't know. Do you fantasize about having sex with little kids?" He inquired dryly.

Disgusted I was hasty to reply: "No! God, no!"

"So you are not like him," He analyzed.

I shook my head at him and averted my gaze, focusing my angry glare on the carpet. "Everything is so black and white to you. I can still end up a pervert, but in a different way."

He turned around, as if the conversation suddenly intrigued him. "In what way?"

I blinked up at him. In the I-have-wet-dreams-about-the-boy-who-is-technically-my-brother way, I thought shamefully. "Nothing. Never mind."

He rolled his eyes. "Read your book."

That's how it was between us, but I supposed it was better than the way we had started out. At least he no longer finished every sentence by calling me an idiot or some variation thereof.

Christmas was rolling near and I was dreading it as much as one might suspect. The first Christmas without my mother. We would have Christmas-dinner at a roadside diner and exchange presents – which we bought at the previous gas station – during our traditional caramel sundae dessert. An outsider would say that our Christmas celebration wasn't very festive nor special, but to us it was and I would always be grateful to unwrap my present; some kind of flavored gum or an energy drink. And my mom would smile like I had just given her diamond earrings when she unpacked a new car-freshener or a bag of fancy potato chips. Just last year it was a bag of baked potato chips with garlic, thyme and parmesan and she had been more than happy to share when we hit the road again.

Tabytha had planned an elaborate sit-down dinner for the expected guests. Cameron's sister and her newest husband, and his adult children, and a business associate from Cameron's company would join us for a six course, extravagant, traditional meal. Bits and pieces of the dinner we would be served in the weeks leading up to Christmas Eve, as Tabytha wanted to test out each dish on us. My joke 'So I guess if we die of food-poisoning it won't be considered a success' was not well-received.

We had one week of school left and then our Christmas vacation would start; two full weeks in the house of horrors. I never expected there would ever come a day when I would wish I could go to school. The only silver lining was that Cameron wouldn't be taking too much time off. Hopefully, with some perfectly timed excursions, Heero and I could avoid him for most of it. I had already made plans for us to go to the mall, the ice-skating rink and the local zoo. Of course Cameron had yet to condone these plans, but I knew I had to wait for the right moment to ask him, so as to increase our odds of getting his permission.

Tabytha was downstairs finalizing her plans for the Christmas dessert and Heero was up in my room for once. Of course he made himself at home and ignored me for most of the time, like he always did, but at least we had reached a point where if I asked him a direct question, he would grace me with a response. The fact that it wasn't always strictly speaking an actual word I had grown to accept. Besides, whether or not he realized it, Heero gave away plenty with his grunts and snorts; it was like his own language and I prided myself on slowly but surely becoming fluent. However, I still preferred full-sentences or even monosyllabic answers.

"Why isn't grandfather Maxwell coming to this Christmas dinner?" I asked out of the blue.

"Why? Do you want him to come?"

I pursed my lips. That was one thing that Heero still did that really bugged me: answering a question with another question. "No. I'm just wondering why he would miss out on spending Christmas with his family. Especially after also missing his daughter's wedding."

"Cameron and his father aren't really on speaking terms."

I straightened up at that tidbit of information. "What do you mean?"

"When someone says two people aren't on speaking terms, it means they aren't talking to each other anymore," He deadpanned.

"Thank you for not being completely condescending," I retorted sarcastically. "Why aren't they talking?"

"His father doesn't approve of him."

I got up and leaned back against the desk where Heero was seated. "Approve of what, exactly?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Are you telling me he knows?"

"Knows what?"

"Don't be coy, you know damn well. Does he knows about Cameron's… sickness?" I shuddered.

"I assume he does. He helped bail him out of trouble a couple of times."

"What kind of trouble? You mean those two kids from when me and my mom were still living with him?" I recalled some details from my phone call with Ruby.

"I don't know." He shrugs. "He jumps in whenever Cameron can't make it go away himself."

"Why would he help him if he doesn't approve?"

"To protect the family name."

"Motherfuck. These goddamn rich people…" I brought my hand up to my mouth and started picking at my cuticles with my teeth. "There has to be something we can do?"

"We?" He questioned with a quirked eyebrow. "I won't be participating in anything you think up. I'm perfectly fine sitting out my time here."

"Perfectly fine…"

"Yes."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it," He replied matter-of-factly and turned his attention back to his textbook.

"But I have to stand it?"

"Yes."

"That fucking sucks," I grumbled. Why couldn't Heero just cooperate? Surely if he would dare to speak up and tell the truth people would have to take us seriously and Cameron couldn't keep sweeping it under the carpet? Heero insisted on abiding his time, waiting to finish high school and get sent to some Ivy League college. He truly believed he would be scot-free once that happens, but I was less optimistic. Cameron would always keep him on a short leash, he would always be there, breathing down his neck and Heero would have to live with what Cameron had done to him – and had let him do to him. That was not a happy ending.

The bell rang on Friday indicating the end of the last class and students grabbed their belongings and sprinted out the doors enthusiastically. I was dragging my feet, in no hurry to get back to the house. I waited for Heero by the bike stands and when he emerged from the building we didn't even exchange a single word and just started walking home. The neighborhood was lavishly decorated, each neighbor trying to outdo the other with lights, inflatables and even music. Everyone was so happy this time of year, but I had a difficult time embracing the Christmas spirit. The days were joyless as I missed my mom more than ever.

After dinner we went up to Heero's room above the garage. I preferred spending time in his room, it was completely private and we could hear Cameron coming from a mile away; the creaking of the winding staircase coming up from the garage was unforgiving. In my room I always feared Cameron could be right on the other side of the wall, pressing his ear against the patterned wallpaper to eavesdrop on us. Not that he would hear much of interest, but the idea alone was nauseating.

"Are you looking forward to Christmas Eve?" I asked my brother.

His grip on his pencil tightened. "Of course not. I don't like people."

I chuckled at his statement. "Yeah. I don't like these people either." I sighed. "I miss my mom, you know?"

"No, I don't know. I don't know what it is like to miss someone."

"Really? You didn't miss your mom when you were put up for adoption?" It was a harsh question, but I was too curious to refrain myself from asking.

"As I said, I don't like people."

"Not even your own mother?"

He turned around in his seat, his eyes were cold. "My mother was a crack-whore, do I need to paint you a picture? No, I didn't even like her."

"Is she dead?" I continued on brazenly. He was being uncharacteristically honest and I had to make good use of that.

"Probably."

"You don't know?"

"I don't care."

I bit my lip in a moment of hesitation and then pressed on: "What about your brothers and sisters? You said you had lots of them."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care?" He seethed.

"But you do care," I pointed out and got up from the floor. "You're getting upset right now, so clearly you do care."

"I'm not getting upset, I'm getting annoyed, because you are forcing me to talk about something that I don't give a rat's ass about. I'm getting bored, really."

I studied his flushed face. "Yeah, you look bored," I observed sarcastically.

He got up from his seat, focusing his glare on me. If he had held on any longer I didn't think I would have been able to stand his vicious stare, but then he pivoted on his heels and started towards the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"I just have to do something. Leave me alone."

Of course I didn't heed his request. I followed him into the bathroom before he could lock the door and shut me out. He paced back and forth in the small space a number of times, frustrated with my presence, but then he undid his jeans and I watched with big, shocked eyes. He grabbed a little black toilet bag and sat down onto the tiled floor with it, leaning his back against the side of the tub. I was reminded of the scene I had encountered in the hotel and I knew what he was going to do. I tried to snatch the bag away from him, but he held onto it tightly and his expression frightened me into inaction.

"Don't do this," I pleaded.

Keeping a threatening gaze fixed on me he zipped the bag open and produced a razorblade. He tossed the bag aside and raised his hips off the floor to push his jeans down to his knees, exposing his thighs and the myriad of old cuts that scarred them.

I didn't want to watch but I was too scared to leave him alone. I crouched down and looked on as he purposefully brought the blade down to his skin and pressed into it. It didn't take much force for the razor to cut into him and with slight delay blood started running out of the puncture wound. He waited a little while before dragging the razor up, creating over an inch long, bright-red cut. I felt my lower lip start to tremble and my eyes well up. Heero's face scrunched up in pain only momentarily before he fully relaxed, he slumped against the tub and his expression became one of peace and relief.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered pathetically. "I shouldn't have kept asking you things about your family. I didn't want to upset you like this-"

"Stop talking," He ordered coldly. He looked down at the bleeding cut and after some brief contemplation he created a twin incision a few inches higher up the same thigh. This time his face betrayed no pain, only determination.

"Please don't do that. You're hurting yourself." I felt embarrassed at the tears running down my face.

"Quite the opposite," He replied breathlessly. "I feel better now."

I covered my mouth with my hand, deeply upset and disturbed by what I was witness to. I tried to stifle my sobs and suppress the urge to vomit.

"Would you like to try it?" He pushed the toilet bag across the bathroom floor, presumably there were new, clean razorblades inside.

I could only shake my head.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

I can't keep doing this, I thought to myself. I couldn't stand it and I wouldn't. I had to find a way to get us both out of here, before he would accidentally end up killing himself trying to escape from a pain that he won't even acknowledge.

We sat on the bathroom floor for about half an hour, during which time Heero made a third cut, that time opening an old scar. When he was satisfied he asked me to hand him the tissue box that was by the sink and I reached up, grabbed it and held it out to him mindlessly. He used several tissues to clean up the blood from his legs and the floor and then he got a box of band aids from the toilet bag. The fresh cut – the opened scar – was still bleeding, so he got some gauze, folded it over twice and held it against the wound and stuck it in place with a larger band aid. His actions were so routinely.

"Why do you cut yourself on your thighs?" I wondered dumbly, observing the entire scene with dead eyes.

"So people won't see the scars. They might ask questions if they do."

"But… doesn't Cameron see them?" I swallowed audibly.

His eyebrow twitched. "He doesn't care." With his hand finding purchase on the porcelain edge of the bathtub he raised himself up from the floor and he pulled his jeans back up. "I'm tired," He announced, "I want to sleep now."

I nodded. My mouth was too dry to be able to speak. I left his room, closing the door behind me quietly and headed downstairs into the garage. I took a moment to regain my composure. I could hear Tabytha moving around in the kitchen and I couldn't handle her noticing anything about me and asking questions, because I would surely burst into tears.

She barely even looked at me as I passed through the kitchen and hurried upstairs to my room. I realized how badly my hands were shaking and tucked them under my arms when I dropped down onto my bed and curled into myself.

A few days later the day before Christmas arrived and we were all seated at the breakfast table quietly chewing on our large serving of pancakes liberally drizzled with syrup. I took a big swig from my glass of fresh orange juice and eyed the people around me. Heero and Cameron were lost in their newspapers. Tabytha was talking about the outfit she would be wearing that evening. I noticed she kept looking at me and realized she had given up on talking to her husband and adoptive son, given that they don't pay her any attention regardless of her efforts, so she had taken to singling me out and talking to me.

"Speaking of clothes," She interrupted herself gleefully, "I have a little surprise for all of my boys." Without explanation she got up from her seat and disappeared upstairs for a minute or two. Heero nor Cameron had noticed her absence. She returned and proudly placed boxes with pretty bows in front of us, one each.

I stared down at the grey box with brand name and black and silver ribbon.

She scraped her throat which must have been some kind of trigger for the other two, because at the sound they finally folded up their newspapers and they appeared surprised at the gifts that had materialized before them.

"I was out shopping yesterday. Remember I told you I needed new pantyhose, Duo?"

I made a face. No.

"Anyway, you know me, when I go shopping magic happens!" She practically squealed. "I found this amazing dress, right off the runway and I thought to myself: this would be perfect for our elegant Christmas soiree."

Oh yeah, she had started calling it a 'Christmas soiree' a couple of days ago. It was obnoxious.

"But I can hardly dress up in something new and chic knowing the three of you are just going to pull something old out of the closet, so I got you a little something. Now, Cameron only got something small because I already knew I wanted him to wear the same suit we bought for you for your sister's wedding, but the two of you," She gestured at Heero and myself, "really needed a little more help. Go ahead, open it," She encouraged.

I pulled the bow apart and popped off the lid of the box unceremoniously. Inside the box were grey slacks of high quality and a silk shirt in a shade of purple. I tried to hide my dismay, I could already imagine myself looking like a total asshole. The fact that she clearly purposefully steered away from black showcased that she didn't really know me and didn't really care to know me. But of course I would have no choice but to wear the outfit she had purchased for me and there would be little sense in objecting. I looked up and say Heero unwrap his present with an equal lack of enthusiasm. For him she had picked out black slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt. Cameron's gift was an expensive silk tie in a faded shade of blue.

Cameron got up from his seat, walked around the table and kissed his wife on the cheek to show his gratitude. He looked at his sons expectantly and we both muttered our 'Thank you's'.

I stared at the clothes. Even though it clearly was the most expensive gift I had ever gotten I was acutely aware that I would have preferred a packet of flavored chewing gum.

My father headed for his office and Heero went up to his room, begrudgingly taking his clothes with him. I stayed behind and helped Tabytha clear the table, I had nothing else to do anyway.

"Do you like the clothes?" She asked. From her tone it was clear she was expecting a definitive affirmation.

So I obliged her: "Yes. It looks like it is very good quality." I chose my words carefully.

"Oh, it is the best!" She touched the fine silk of the purple shirt. "My boys deserve to be spoiled once in a while. Although… you might never want to wear those cheap cotton shirts ever again," With a laugh she nodded at my current outfit.

I looked down at my black shirt with the faded print of a rock band's logo on the front, underneath a black and grey lumberjack button-up. I was pretty sure my sense of style – or lack thereof – would be unaffected by her gift. What kind of sleazy douchebag wears a purple, silk shirt anyway? It reminded me of cheesy gangsters in old-timey movies.

"So uh," I started as I loaded the dishwasher and Tabytha looked over tonight's menu for the umpteenth time, "Who is this guy from Cameron's work?"

"Oh, I don't know." She waved her hand dismissively, not looking up from the laminated page. "Just some employee."

"Doesn't it bug you that Cameron invites a random employee to your family Christmas," I paused, "soiree?"

"Honey, the more the merrier!"

I took her comment to mean she loved showing off her lavish lifestyle to as many people as possible.

"Cameron invites a different company employee each year," She continued. "He is very invested in the company and he wants it to be clear that he is involved in every sector, at every level, so he invites a worker from a different team each year to get to know them better and to show that he is an amicable employer."

"Right. So sometimes entire families come over, I guess?"

"No, no, no. He only invites the men who are still single. He can't expect an employee to drag his entire family along and he certainly can't expect them to miss out on spending the holidays with their families."

I nodded. I still thought it was weird, though. It didn't sound like him at all. Cameron wasn't the kind of guy who takes charge by befriending everybody, he was more the type of boss who simply assumes ultimate authority, no questions asked.

I got my laptop from my room and then joined Heero above the garage. I played a game while he quietly worked. Even though we weren't speaking, it was actually kind of nice. We were both seated at his desk, him in his desk chair, me on a wooden stool. The desk was fairly large but I had purposefully sat down close to him. Sometimes my gaze strayed from my computer screen – away from the explosions and the unnecessarily explicit gore – and I would watch his hands as he typed on his keyboard. I was one of those people who could only type with their index fingers. Heero used every digit efficiently, typing faster than my eyes could keep up with. I imaged he must have spent a lot of hours at his computer. He may refuse to admit it, but he was searching for an escape. The keys of laptop were already faded, some letters were no longer distinguishable, like the E, the A and the N, in spite of the fact that the laptop was less than two years old.

I looked up at his face, his expression one of absolute concentration. He was so pretty it was unreal. I understood why Cameron had to adopt him, choosing him over all the 'normal', American kids, as his sister had said. I scrunched up my nose and shook my head, I couldn't believe my own thoughts. I was imaging Cameron meeting Heero for the first time and all the sick urges he must have had the moment he laid eyes on the beautiful – eight year old! – boy. I didn't want to think about that, it was creepy. There was a hint of inappropriate, irrational jealousy in my thought-process as well. I couldn't help but think to myself that Cameron lucked out that my mom took me away from him, by adopting Heero he certainly managed to trade up. I liked to think that I would have put up a bigger fight, though, but there was no way I could know for certain. I couldn't predict what I would have been like if Cameron had had the chance to manipulate me from such a young, impressionable age onwards. Maybe I would have become just like Heero; accepting my fate, trading my body – and my dignity along with it – for greater, imagined purpose.

"Something wrong?"

I blinked and only then became aware of my brother looking at me. I dared to think there was a slight suggestion of concern in his questioning eyes and the way one eyebrow furrowed. "What?"

"Are you sick?"

I swallowed. That was kind of a loaded question, considering my recent struggles with my genetic heritage and how that would affect my own behavior. "What do you mean?"

"You looked pale all of a sudden."

"Oh. No. I'm fine."

"You're dead," Heero pointed out dryly.

"Excuse me?"

He nodded at my laptop screen and only then I bothered to look and I saw 'blood' had spattered against the 'camera lens', leaving the entire image blurred and bold text read that my character died in combat, giving me the option to start my mission anew or to abandon the cause. "Yeah… look at that… I am dead…" I grinned sheepishly. "I'm not really good at computer games, you know? With me and my mom being on the road all the time, I didn't have a computer, so I don't really…" I shrugged. "I play a mean game of Texas Hold 'em though!"

"I prefer Solitaire," He said and then bit his lip, as if he hadn't intended to reveal that.

"Yeah? Go figure," I snorted. "But if you like card games we could play sometime. I could teach you if you don't know any."

"I know plenty, but like I said, I prefer Solitaire!" He argued childishly.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're lying! I bet you can't tell your Flush from your Straight."

"Hn." He looked back at his screen.

"Oh, we're going to play a game of cards sometime. I promise you that, my friend," I teased.

"We're not friends."

"No. We're brothers," I retorted smartly.

When it was time to get ready I headed back to my room for a leisure shower and to get dressed. I stared at my reflection in dismay. Purple really wasn't my color. She had got the sizes right, probably copied them from my own clothes, but that was the nicest thing I could say about it. I stuffed my hands deep into the pockets of the grey slacks, trying to get comfortable. I slumped my shoulders, as if terrible posture could make me look like myself again.

I was called downstairs. The guests would be arriving shortly. I stopped dead in my tracks in the hallway, looking at the gathered threesome in the kitchen. Tabytha was adjusting the collar of Heero's blue shirt in an uncharacteristically motherly manner and then proceeded to run her hands through his hair, a vain attempt to try to tame his messy hair. She was wearing a dark blue cocktail dress with details of black lace and delicate Swarovski appliqués. Cameron stood by, watching, smiling to himself, dressed in a blue suit, a white shirt and his new, blue tie. I looked down at my purple shirt and realized it was like a boldly printed banner declaring that I wasn't really part of the family. This shouldn't have insulted me, giving the sick family dynamic that I was aware of, but it did; it irked me that they wanted to draw the line between us like that, because I wasn't good enough to be on their side of the line. We were wearing football jerseys and I was the idiot who had bought a ticket in the wrong section of the stadium, and was dangerously out of place. I didn't even want to be part of their team, but strangely it hurt that Tabytha – the one I thought didn't have deeply rooted hatred and disdain for me – didn't want me to be part of them.

"Duo, you look great! Purple is a good color on you!" The tall, slim woman proclaimed.

Cameron nodded his agreement.

I exchanged a look with Heero and I suspected he noticed the same message in the color-scheme. He didn't look particularly empathetic.

First Cameron's sister and her new husband arrived. She completely ignored me as she made the rounds and Tabytha started pouring everyone their drinks of choice. When her husband – with some generic name I had already forgotten – showed some interest in me, genuine or not, she was quick to call him to her. I realized everyone would be doing their damnest to not make me feel included.

His children and their respective partners were next to arrive. Four unremarkable faces; four unremarkable people. They effortlessly blended into the bland conversation about nothing, the group splitting up according to gender. Heero and I stood by idly. I had my hands in my pockets, even as Tabytha kept making eyes at me, not-so-subtly trying to communicate that she didn't appreciate my lackluster stance.

The doorbell rang one more time and Cameron invited his employee into his home. The man was tall and sickly thin, I made a face shaking his bony hand and he introduced himself as 'Patrick Smart'. His behavior and his words were rehearsed and unanimated. I could empathize with him. He was as out of place as I was. He was still a creep though, with a shameless comb-over and dark circles under his sunken eyes. His teeth looked horrible and the smell coming from his mouth was as bad as I expected when I first saw him bare his teeth in a grin.

"Heero, this is Patrick," Cameron said as the boy and the ghoul shook hands, "Patrick is the head of our Chemical Engineering department."

Patrick nodded eagerly.

"Heero is very interested in science. When he grows up he is going to change the word, I'm sure of it."

"When he grows up," Patrick repeated.

I realized they were still shaking hands and I frowned. My focus was pulled away when Tabytha announced we should take our seats at the dinner table and prepare ourselves for the first course of the evening. In the dining room I noticed she had even bothered to put place cards on the table. My seat was next to Esther and across from her brother Mike – my cousins, I supposed. Heero was assigned his regular seat to Cameron's left and Patrick sat down next to him. Cameron and Tabytha were on opposite ends of the table, the images of the perfect hosts.

It was easy for me tune out. My body was politely seated at the dinner table, pretending to enjoy my meal and listen to the mundane back and forth, but my mind had disappeared into the dark recesses of myself. I wondered if Christmas would ever be joyful again, without my mother. I suspected not.

We were served the main course and I caught part of the conversation at the other side of the table.

"So, Heero, you want to be, like, a scientist?" Patrick asked.

Heero shrugged.

Cameron inserted himself and supplied: "Heero loves studying and inventing things." He suggested in a hushed tone: "Heero, you should show Patrick your work station after dinner."

Heero barely nodded.

Patrick and Cameron smiled at each other.

My stomach started to turn, but surely I was mistaken…?

Dinner continued innocently enough. I was stuffed long before the final course was served and I had only eaten a little off each plate. The guests were happily washing their meals down with bottle after bottle of expensive, aged wine and after dessert Heero and I were poured a glass as well. The adults laughed as the two of us felt forced enough to drink it that we both downed it in a single gulp and made faces at the taste.

"Just wait a couple of years, boys," Cameron bellowed, raising his glass in a toast, "You'll love it."

I offered to help Tabytha clear the table, being the only one to do so. Although she declined my offer and ushered everyone into the living room for stronger drinks, I stayed behind and helped her anyway. Any excuse to not be amidst that vain, superficial gathering of people was good enough. Unfortunately I couldn't escape them for the entire evening. The dishwasher did most of the work and Tabytha and I joined the rest. Every seat in the living room was taken, everyone sitting next to their significant other. I, however, was assigned to sit on the lonely ottoman in the corner. Heero was sitting next to Patrick. They were seated a little too closely together for my liking, but I was imagining things. Patrick paid little to no attention to the boy right beside him, instead engaged in conversation with 'my new uncle' – Cliff, Frank, Bill, or some other horribly uninspired name.

The indistinct murmur of the branched off conversations was interrupted by Cameron. Rolling his glass of whisky he said: "Tabytha, honey, if you would get the Christmas presents."

She clapped her hands excitedly and got up from her seat.

"Now, I know we said we wouldn't exchange any gifts, but it's Christmas!"

I rolled my eyes. They tricked their family and friends into thinking no gifts were required so they could end up looking abundantly generous and making the rest look like asses for not getting anyone anything.

"Duo, Heero," Cameron addressed us, "Although Tabytha already got you lovely presents, I got you something as well," He said even though we were the only ones who didn't get a package handed to us by Tabytha. "But it was too big to wrap. I took the liberty of putting your presents in your rooms."

My body went stiff and my face went red. I didn't like the idea of him inviting himself into my room, not at all.

"Go ahead boys," Tabytha encouraged, "Go see."

We both got up reluctantly and Heero left for the garage and I headed upstairs. I was apprehensive opening the door to my room. I didn't know what to expect, but I was thinking along the lines of the bloody, severed head of a racehorse at the foot of my bed.

Inside my room, arranged on the floor, I found an enormous flat screen television, still in the box, and a gaming console as well as a broad selection of video games. I stared at the elaborate present, fully aware that any other teenager would be overjoyed, but the message was as obvious as a horse's head. It was Cameron's chosen way of telling me I should really spend less time with Heero. He didn't like the fact that we spent most nights cooped up in his room, completely private. He thought a television and games would keep me more confined to my room, so he could have better access to Heero again, without my prying eyes. It wasn't going to work, I was not going to play into his hand.

I stayed upstairs for as long as I thought I could get away with. I figured I could explain away my absence pretending to be in awe of my Christmas gift. Instead I sat on the edge of my bed and watched the door, afraid he was going to burst through and lay it on extra thick that he wanted me to stay away from his prized son. Soon I had to go downstairs again, they were waiting for me to express my gratitude.

"I think he likes his present!" Tabytha asserted when I stepped into the living room after being gone for about half an hour.

"Yeah, it's great!" I was trying very hard to feign enthusiasm and was fairly optimistic that to the undiscerning eye my act was convincing.

"I appreciate how hard you've been working on your school projects, with Heero's help," Cameron said slyly, "But a boy like you should also enjoy his free time."

"It's great," I repeated, "I'm sure you'll have to beat me off with a stick." I swallowed at the dark flicker in my father's eyes.

"Honey, why won't you just go upstairs and play your games?" My step-mother suggested. "Grown-up talk wouldn't interest you anyway."

Grown-up talk? I suddenly realized Heero was not in the living room. And neither was Patrick. But the two of them weren't missed by the group. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll go do that," I waved sheepishly and then backed away. Once I was out of sight I went to the kitchen, as opposed to my room. I stood in front of the door leading into the garage, feeling my heart beat high up in my throat. Please, no. Please, no. The mantra repeated itself in my head. I opened the door quietly. If my nauseating suspicions were correct, I at least wanted to catch them in the act.

I was prepared to climb the stairs to his room, hoping I would have more success sneaking up to the door than Cameron in the past, but I heard soft sounds to my right, so I looked around the opened door at Heero's workstation.

Patrick had the boy backed up against the workbench. He was grinding their hips together, moaning gratuitously and senselessly, his hands were on Heero ass. The Japanese boy held his arms against his chest and leaned his shoulders back as far as his spine allowed, preventing Patrick from descending his panting, wet mouth onto his, but other than that he was making no effort to fight him off.

When the utter shock of what I was witness to wore off enough for my heart to sink back into my chest and clear my throat, I slammed the door shut to make my presence known and yelled: "What the fuck!"

Patrick jumped away from Heero, reaching down to adjust himself with one hand, while he ran the other through his greasy hair. "Look, kid," He started, "It's okay."

My nostrils flared. I was fuming! With my balled fists trembling at my sides I approached him but Heero sped towards me and with a hand on my chest he stopped me from getting close to the despicable pervert.

"It's okay. It's okay," Patrick kept saying in a vain attempt to calm me down. "I arranged everything with Cameron-"

I pointed an angry finger at him. "Fuck that!"

"Duo, please," My step-brother hushed and it took a little more force on his part to keep me from charging at the gangly man.

I looked at Heero with wild eyes. There was panic in his eyes, but not for the right reasons. "I'm going to tell everyone! And you are going to back me up! Cameron can't control everyone and everything! Someone has to believe us!" I turned around and headed back for the door.

"Woah woah woah!" Patrick tried, but he was silenced by Heero, who came after me. He grabbed two handfuls of the back of my shirt, twisting his fingers into the fabric and he wasn't about to let go. "Duo, please! That won't accomplish anything!"

"Bullshit!" I struggled to free myself from his grip, but to no avail.

"Duo, don't do this!" He pleaded.

"I'm- uh… I'm gonna get out of here." Patrick walked around us in a big circle and slipped through the door like the weasel that he was.

"This is what you meant!" I hissed at Heero, turning around to face him.

He let go of me but came to stand between me and the door, ready to stop me should I try to go back inside the house.

"This is what you meant when you said you were too old for Cameron. He whores you out to-" I gestured at the door through which Patrick had left. "To-…" I groaned at my struggle to find words. "To guys whose taste you haven't outgrown!"

"Please don't make a big deal of this."

I scoffed. "This is a big deal!" I buried my hands in his hair. "This is what happens during the fishing trips? Isn't it? He lets other men fuck you!" I doubled over, it was difficult not to vomit. The images that assaulted me would haunt me forever.

"It's just sex, Duo! It's not a big deal!"

"It's rape!" I straightened up to look him in the eyes. "This is serious! You can't shrug this off." I shook my head at him. "I'm not going to let him do this to you anymore. It ends right now!" I reached out and grabbed his hand. "We are leaving." I started to pull him towards the outside door but he leaned his weight back and resisted.

"You're an idiot if you think we can ever escape this!" He screamed at me. "Let go of me! I don't want this!" Suddenly he didn't resist anymore. He lunged forward and punched me in the face.

I was startled enough for my grip to weaken and he tried to run upstairs so he could lock himself in his room, but I composed myself and chased after him. I caught him at the bottom of the winding staircase, pulling him back towards the door. Luckily the house was big enough that our fight in the garage couldn't be heard in the living room, which was at the opposite end of the house. We tumbled to the floor and he kept hitting me, not holding back. Instinctively, to get him to stop punching me in the ribs, I struck him across the face. As soon as the smack resounded we both stilled. I felt guilty right away, my heart clenching painfully as I watched the red handprint on his cheek start to appear. "Heero, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean-"

He pushed me off him and got up on his feet, backing into a corner like a wild animal.

"I'm so sorry." My voice cracked with emotion. "I didn't mean to hit you. I don't want to hurt you. Please…" I was literally on my knees, begging him for forgiveness. Given what he had suffered through all his life, I shouldn't have hit him. It was different for me, for me it was just a fight, but for him it was a continuation of life-long abuse. I didn't want him to fear or distrust me. I didn't want him to see me as a true son of Cameron. I didn't want to be like him.

"You're so stupid, Duo," He said darkly, looking down on me. "You think this hurts me?" He pointed at his cheek. "Nothing hurts me anymore. I can take it!"

I knew that wasn't true but I also knew I didn't stand a chance at convincing him of that bitter truth in the heated moment.

"I tried," He seethed. "You think I didn't try? In the past? Before I knew better? The only way to escape it, is to stand it, to let it run its course and then I'll be free and I'll be better off. I'm not going to let you ruin that."

I slowly got up from the floor.

"I'll tell you what happens if we try to run. He'll find us and I'll get punished. I won't get the things I want; the things I've worked for; the things I deserve! And you'll be dead. Same if you try to tell anyone."

A shiver ran down my spine at his matter-of-fact statement.

He straightened his clothes. "If you want to run, you can try. I don't think he'll try to find you at this point. But I'm staying here. I'll be doing us both a favor."

The door opened and Cameron barged in with an innocent façade. "What is taking you boys so long?"

I heard Tabytha rummaging in the kitchen, she was within earshot, explaining his mild-mannered attitude since clearly Patrick had found a way to give him a head's up without alarming the other guests.

He observed the scene, noticing the forming bruise around my eye and the redness of Heero's cheek. "What's going on here?" His smile never faltered.

"We had a fight, that's all. Brothers fight," Heero offered.

Tabytha overheard and came to stand in the doorway. "A fight?" She gasped at both our faces. "Boys!"

"Tabytha, it's fine," The tall man shushed her, "Heero is right. Brothers fight. People are waiting for their drinks, sweetheart."

She nodded meekly and then left.

"Although it is normal for two boys to get into some kind of altercation, I do not condone it. You will both spend the rest of the evening in your rooms," He ordered coldly.

Heero obediently went upstairs.

With my head ducked between my shoulders I squeezed by Cameron in the doorway. I could feel him looking down at me but I didn't dare to look him in the eyes. Now that he knew I had figured out his dirty little secret, I was all the more exposed and vulnerable. If Cameron really didn't have any qualms with killing me, like Heero said, he might do so, regardless if I cooperated or not.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter includes content depicting NONCONSENSUAL SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH A MINOR.

**Brothers**

**Chapter Thirteen**

It was the start of a frightening new year. Every measure of celebration seemed inappropriate. The crackle of fireworks in the sky startled me, and I shivered, down to my bone marrow. They were like warning shots fired into the air. Cameron had his left hand on the back of my neck and his right hand on the back of Heero's neck and he was making us look up at the display of color.

"Isn't it beautiful?" He mused rhetorically. "Strange how something so dangerous can be so beautiful."

It sounded like he was describing himself and I knew he was. He was less coy about his threats since he found out I knew his dirty little secret. "It's not dangerous if you know how to handle it," I replied, trying to be smart, hoping the quiver in my voice wasn't detectable over the whistling of arrows and the roaring of explosions above us.

"One misstep and things can still blow up in your face." He looked down at me.

I steeled my gaze and shot right back at him: "Indeed."

The corners of his mouth curved down in a displeased grimace. I felt his hold on my neck tightening. "An explosion is indiscriminate. It will wipe out everyone close to it, even the innocent bystanders."

"Stop your morbid talk," Tabytha interrupted, oblivious to what we were really talking about. "Just enjoy the fireworks."

When the colorful show died down and the skies went black, with a grey fuzz of smoke veiling the moon and the stars, we went back into the house, seeking shelter from the chilly air. Tabytha poured herself and Cameron another glass of expensive champagne and they toasted to the new year. I looked at Heero and was unnerved when I noticed he had been glaring at me. He didn't like this battle between Cameron and I, he was afraid of being caught in the crossfire. He still didn't realize I was doing all of it to keep him safe – or rather, to keep us both safe.

Cameron's Christmas gift had backfired when I had decided to install the flat screen television and brand new gaming console in Heero's room, as opposed to my own. My father had tried to prevent it, but Tabytha unknowingly took my side when she reasoned it only made more sense: Heero's room was bigger and could accommodate the big TV much easier and she pointed out how generous it was of me that I was willing to share my present with my brother. Never mind that I hadn't actually gotten him to play with me yet. Cameron couldn't argue with that without raising suspicion, but it made him all the more resentful towards me. He was looking for a way to get his revenge. To make sure he wouldn't abuse Heero to punish me, we were practically conjoined twins for the duration of our Christmas vacation. Even though Cameron knew I knew what was going on, he still played his game of pretend in front of me, maybe because it was second nature to him or maybe because he knew it creeped me out. Regardless, it meant he kept a distance whenever Heero and I were together.

So I promised Heero that as long as he would cooperate with me, I would make no waves, but that promise was hard to keep when Cameron kept antagonizing me.

After our first day back at school we went straight home as we were always instructed to do. Cameron was keeping us on as short of a leash as possible without alarming Tabytha. I still hadn't figured out how much she knew, but she must be at least a bit suspicious and yet she decided to look the other way, rather than investigate. I had no ally in her, I couldn't trust her. She was living in a bubble and she didn't want it to burst so she wasn't about to start poking at it or let anybody else poke at it.

I plopped down on the carpeted floor of Heero's bedroom and took the controller of the gaming console into my hand.

"We have homework," He pointed out.

"I thought you preferred doing all our assignments on your own," I sniped back, scrolling through my saved games.

"I'm not just talking about Physics. I'm not going to cover your other class work."

I shrugged and rebooted my last mission, where my characters kept dying in a warehouse raid. "I don't care about school. I don't care if I fail."

"Cameron will make you care."

I glanced up at him. My eyebrow twitched. "It bugs you," I observed and I teased: "It bugs you that I don't want to do my homework. You know, that's a little obsessive compulsive, that you can't stand the thought of my homework not being finished."

He snorted and started digging into his bag, looking for a specific book.

"Either that, or… you want me to succeed in school. Because you care about me." That was a pretty bold thing to say but I loved how his jaw dropped momentarily at being prodded like that. At times like that I remembered that Heero was still human, even though I believed the way he handled the situation with Cameron was so cold-blooded that, more often than not, it seemed like Heero had sacrificed his humanity for the sake of his survival.

"Fine. Just play your stupid games."

"These games are actually a lot more fun if you play them together." I looked up at him expectantly, but he didn't meet my gaze. "We could team up."

No response. He opened his textbook and started leafing through it dutifully.

"Or we could fight each other."

Heero cocked his head and looked over his shoulder, interested in the possibility.

I smirked. Knowing I had to sweeten the pot, I suggested: "Since you're all about pragmatism and doing one thing to get another, how about this: I'll make you a deal. If you beat me-" I nodded at the screen where I had paused my solo-game, "I'll do my homework first thing every day for an entire week and I won't bitch and moan about it."

"And you'll leave me alone," He insisted.

I shook my head. "I can't do that. But I will be quiet."

"All week?"

"All week. I won't say a word."

He swiveled his chair around. He was definitely intrigued. "And what about when you win?"

I smirked at him. "Oh, if you play, I'll already have my prize."

"You just want me to play? You don't want anything from me?" He seemed confused and surprised and that broke my heart.

"Would you agree to leaving this place with me if I win?"

"No."

"In that case: No. I don't want anything from you if I win."

He contemplated the deal briefly.

"Come on," I pressed and said in a low, tempting whisper: "A whole week of silence."

"It's still not fair. I have never played this game."

"I hadn't either until last week. Here, take the controller," I held it out to him. "I'll let you do a solo-mission first, so you can practice. And then we'll go head to head."

He nodded curtly and moved to sit down on the floor next to me and took the controller from me.

I watched him play the game and although he was a fast learner, as I could have suspected, I wasn't too worried. I was confident enough that I had gotten good enough at the game to be able to beat him but I trusted him to be arrogant enough to not suspect that.

"Mission complete," He said proudly when he was done and the screen read: VICTORY.

"That was really good." I grabbed the other controller and entered the menu to select a two-person gameplay in which we could fight each other. The screen split into two halves and as the settings loaded, I informed: "I'm the top. You're the bottom." I bit my lip as I realized the unintended double innuendo of my words. I glanced at him sideways but it didn't appear like he had caught it. If anything he seemed determined and ready to kick my ass.

For a minute he had me worried he would be able to beat me. My character had taken a severe hit and was limping and his character had just found the bazooka-round I had spent most of my time looking for – rendering the best of my few weapons useless. But I soon found a medicine kit and he made the mistake of taking time to set up a trap by the water tower. Because I could also see his half of the screen, I knew where he was. The water tower was a recognizable landmark in the level and easy to find. With my life-bar completely green and extra rounds for my rifle, I headed straight for him. I shot him twice and then got up close for hand to hand combat. I stepped on one of the mines he had placed, that was stupid, but it wasn't enough to lose me the upper hand. Beside me I could hear him furiously pressing buttons as his life-bar quickly went red until his half of the screen blurred and eventually blacked out.

He stared at the screen with evident dismay. He wasn't used to not being the best at something.

"Best two out of three?" I suggested.

"That seems only fair. You cheated after all."

"I did not cheat!"

"You looked at my screen, how else could you have known where I was?"

"That's not cheating. That's just stupid, on your part! Picking the water tower of all places…" I shook my head.

"Just hit 'play'," He growled.

I happily obliged. A new landscape loaded and we started anew. I let him beat me that time, but put up enough of a fight to make sure he wouldn't suspect I let him win. He was a sore loser but an even more insufferable victor. I didn't mind, however. He seemed to be enjoying the game, enjoying himself even and that was all I ever wanted.

I ended up decapitating him in the next round. That certainly left him dumbstruck. I took a while to hide my silly grin and then offered to go for best three out of five, still giving him the opportunity to win the bet – or at least making him think that he could still win.

"I know what you're doing."

"Well, you are a genius," I asserted shrewdly. "Do you give up?"

"I really want you to shut up for a whole week."

"So?"

"Play," He retorted gruffly.

He kept losing and I kept offering him rematches and his pride wouldn't let him quit. I was starting to run the risk of losing the bet as his gaming skills were quickly improving. But I had to take that risk, even if I would end up losing, it would be worth it. Keeping my mouth shut for a duration of seven days would be a challenge, no doubt, but I had to exploit the moment as long as I could. He would never admit it, but he was having fun. He almost resembled a normal kid, leaning into the movements, along with his character and gritting his teeth in effort and suspense.

We had both been so caught up in the battle that we had missed the footsteps coming up the staircase and we were both startled when Cameron suddenly burst in, who had finally succeeded in sneaking up on us.

I looked up at him and noticed that the sight before him shocked him. Obviously he had hoped that Heero's off-putting demeanor would keep us from bonding, but with the way things looked in that moment – even more amicably than things really were between us – he knew he had reason for concern.

"What are you doing?" He demanded to know.

"We're just playing a game…"

He looked at me sharply. "You have homework to do. You both do. Heero, this is unacceptable."

My father had never made a fuss when he had caught me gaming by myself.

Heero shocked us both – probably himself as well – when he chimed in: "Please, one more game."

Cameron stared at him in disbelief and then redirected his gaze to me. His eyes were cold and sinister. He had never looked at me quite like that before, like he had only just appreciated how dangerous I could potentially be. He took a moment to compose himself and then he said: "Finish your homework first." He tried to sound as cool and collected as he always did, but his voice was trembling and his nostrils were flared. He had been convinced that I would never get Heero to side with me, but in that moment I could see the fear in his eyes; fear that Heero would betray him and turn against him at the insistence of his new 'brother' and 'friend', and then everything would fall apart around him.

Heero dropped the controller and took a seat at his desk. He angled his head down and intently directed his gaze at the pages of his textbook.

With a sigh I shut off the game and pulled my book bag towards me.

He nodded authoritatively and after scrutinizing me for another, agonizing moment, he left the room.

"Jesus." I breathed a sigh of relief. "We can continue our game when we're done."

"I don't want to," The other replied gruffly.

"What? Why not? Didn't you want to beat me?"

"Forget it. It was stupid. It was a waste of my time. I have better things to do. I shouldn't lose focus."

I frowned at his uncharacteristic rambling. Absentminded I looked back at the screen where I noticed I hadn't even thought to pause the game when Cameron barged in. Heero's character was standing in a field somewhere and mine was by the row of abandoned buildings where I knew he previously set up explosive booby-traps. A thought came to mind and rather than discontinuing the game, I walked my character into a shed, where you could normally find ammunition and I deliberately triggered one of Heero's traps. With only a third of my life-bar left green, the explosion proved fatal. My half of the screen went black and Heero's half read: VICTORY.

"Oh shit," I said dryly. "I lost. Which means I lost the bet," we had agreed on sudden death rounds, after all. All it would take for one to beat the other was a single win and by causing my own death Heero was the victor by default.

"Don't be patronizing. I wasn't even playing anymore. If anything, you won because I forfeited the game."

"No, no. We didn't stop the game. And now my commando is dead, which means you have won the battle and, by extension, our bet."

He eyed me suspiciously.

"So… I guess I should shut up now." With a grin I mimed physically zipping my lips.

"Your stupidity insults me. You didn't lose, I won't accept this."

I shrugged.

"I haven't done anything to deserve winning the bet," He argued. He was getting a little flustered.

I just blinked up at him.

"God!" He exclaimed. "Who knew you could be even more annoying without talking?"

I simply smirked.

"Duo, I'm serious. This isn't right. I didn't win. I don't like getting things when I haven't earned it."

Even though we were delving into a deeper issue, I stuck to my guns and didn't say anything. It might be good for him to experience getting a reward without having to work for it. Perhaps he could learn to accept that there was nothing wrong with that, he was just a kid after all, he shouldn't have to earn his keep all the time.

"If you're seriously not going to say anything the entire week, at least get out of my room."

I shook my head. That wasn't part of the deal, after all. I had to remain by his side, for his own protection. Whether or not he was ready to acknowledge that.

He turned around in his seat, heaving a deep sigh. He resigned to his fate and focused his attention on his school work.

With nothing better to do, I did my own homework as well and afterwards found other ways to kill the time. After dinner I went back up to Heero's room with him and put on a movie, wearing headphones at his insistence. I didn't say anything to him and I wasn't planning to. I was curious to see how he would react to my week-long silence, now that he must have gotten used to hearing me run my mouth on a daily basis. I liked to think he would miss my voice filling the silence, that my presence had somehow grown on him, but there was only one way to find out. It would be an interesting experiment, at least.

By the third-day-mark it was evident my brother was more frustrated by my purposeful silence than he could manage. He made it his mission to get me to talk to him, I suspected because that would feel like a victory to him, like a point proven; that I had no discipline. The sly little bastard even went so far as trying to start up a conversation with me during dinner that evening, in the presence of Tabytha and Cameron. I didn't respond vocally. I only nodded or shook my head when I could and just made faces or blatantly ignored him when he asked me open-ended questions.

"Are you two having a fight?" Tabytha asked with concern, her eyes darting at Cameron.

Cameron was only pleased, he took my silence as a sign of our 'budding friendship' withering and dying and he wasn't about to fix matters. He urged Tabytha to leave it be.

The woman was reluctant to heed his orders, but too afraid to oppose him. However, once Cameron had retreated into his home office in the back of the house and Heero had gone up to his room after dinner, she confronted me as I helped her clear the table and load the dishwasher.

"What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing," Was my innocent and not entirely inaccurate reply. I hadn't expected her to press on, she was hardly ever interested in our lives.

"You would tell me if something was going on, right?"

I looked at her with stone cold eyes. "Would you really want me to?"

The seriousness of my tone unnerved her.

"Would you really want to know?" I noticed a frightful flicker in her big eyes. I could hear her breathing nervously and noticed that the hand with which she gripped the edge of the kitchen counter was trembling and white-knuckled. Suddenly, she averted her gaze. After taking a moment to straighten her pencil shirt and fuss with a curled lock of her hair that framed her face, she turned her head again and that time faced me with a poised smile.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to meddle."

She knew, I thought to myself and the depths of my guts churned with disgust. Her blinking her eyes at me innocently was as much of a confession as I was ever going to get. She knew what went on between Cameron and Heero – perhaps not the full extent of it, like I didn't know the whole story yet myself, but she knew enough and she didn't stop it. I was torn between anger and pity. Obviously Cameron's dominating nature had frightened her into inaction all these years, but while understandable, it was still inexcusable that she had never tried to save her adoptive son from her own husband.

In that same moment she must have realized that I had learned of the truth as well. Yet we both finished our chore as if nothing had changed and went our separate ways afterward.

I joined Heero in his room and started another violent mission in one of the gameplays. It was good to be able to take my aggression out on something. In real life I felt pathetically useless and not in control. I was tempted to confront him with my new-found knowledge regarding Tabytha, but I was still too determined to last the week. With a sigh I paused the game and I looked at him. He looked so normal, hunched over his work, catching him in a yawn.

I didn't like to admit it – and Heero even less so – but we were really brothers. Being brothers didn't exclude hating each other's guts from time to time, perhaps more often than not. I cared for him and wanted to protect him the way I imagined an older brother would look out for his younger sibling, ignoring the fact that we were only a year apart in age. In spite of everything, I experienced a closeness to him and because I had had so few friends in my lifetime due to my nomadic existence with my mom, he had quickly risen in ranks and had become the second closest person to me. My mom being dead didn't mean she wasn't still in first place.

I wished I could tell him that. I wished I could believe that it would mean something to him, but I wasn't sure. Maybe he was too far gone to be able to appreciate those kinds of sentiments.

The sick part was; in spite of my growing brotherly feelings towards him, I still wasn't blind to his physical beauty. Whenever I looked at him I was reminded of the way I felt when I used to look at this guy I had a crush on. Grant's dad owned a motel and the old man gave me and my mom a good deal for a room, we stayed there an entire month, making trips to the Grand Canyon. My mom had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, she had said and she wasn't satisfied until she had seen all of it. Of course that was an exaggeration, but we did end up seeing a whole lot of it. I was bored by the sand and the stone – every cliff edge and crevice looks the same after a while – but the sight of Grant was always titillating. He always wore sleeveless shirts and every time I saw him he had greasy stains on his neck, from working on his old Mustang and then scratching an itch. Grand Grant. I used to dream about him too. Those dreams were fairly innocent compared to the thoughts of Heero that my subconscious entertained.

In my dream from last night we were both in his bed. I knew it was a dream instantly because Heero didn't even allow me to sit on his bed, let alone share it with him. It resembled a platonic sleep-over at first until the scene seamlessly transitioned into us making out, breathing heavily through our nose as our tongues battled and running our hands all over the other, at which point I realized we were suddenly naked. Embarrassingly, I had never actually kissed anyone yet, even though I always pretended to have a worldly understanding of physical intimacy. My imagination filled in the blanks effortlessly. Heero's lips were soft and his mouth hot. The touch of his hands was rough with unbridled, teenage lust. He engaged me eagerly, he didn't lean away like he had with Patrick. He wanted me and he didn't hesitate to show me how much.

My face contorted with horror. Reliving the dream had been a terrible idea. I didn't need to look down at my lap to confirm I had an erection. Instead, I glanced at Heero, half expecting him to have already spied me in my shameful state, but he was still focused on his work, oblivious to my inappropriate arousal. I looked back at the TV screen, noticing my character was being fired upon, but even the eerily realistic spatters of blood and the contortions of his body couldn't diminish my lust, I was a hot-blooded teenage boy after all. I exited the game, not bothering to save my progress.

Without a word, I scrambled to my feet and hurried out the door. Heero must have looked after me, once he noticed I was leaving, but he didn't say anything and I prayed he hadn't seen anything. I didn't want to upset him. I didn't want to frighten him, I didn't want to give him a very real reason to distrust me.

In a mad dash I made my way through the house and up to my room, thankfully going unnoticed. Cameron was still in his office and I could hear Tabytha talking to someone on the phone, in the living room.

Upstairs I locked the door to my bedroom and then went into the bathroom and locked that door as well. The friction created by my jeans made my predicament all the more urgent. I turned on the shower, to have a good excuse not to be disturbed and to drown out any incriminating noises I might make. I leaned back against the sink and unceremoniously undid my jeans and pushed them down my thighs along with my underwear. I cursed at the sight of my swollen manhood, I felt betrayed, but there was only one thing I could do about it. I spat in my palm and wrapped my hand around the shaft and started jerking myself off. It wouldn't take much, I knew.

I tried not to think of Heero, I desperately tried to focus on a memory of Grant, working on the engine of his Mustang, but for whatever reason I couldn't remember what he looked like, in that moment. Although Grant was much older than me, he was a better justifiable object of affection than my goddamned – abused - brother, but I had little say in the matter. When I came, all I could see behind my closed eyelids was Heero's face, the way I remembered it best: judging me and the intense stare didn't turn me off in the slightest.

The next few days it wasn't really a challenge to ignore Heero; I couldn't even look him in the eyes. Rather than trying to corner me and get me to talk, like he had the day before, he left me alone. Maybe because he didn't care anymore, but I liked to think it was because he recognized something was bothering me and he was being sympathetic. But I was too disturbed by my own actions to be encouraged by the thought, whether or not it was an illusion.

I could catch Cameron smirking at the two of us from time to time, definitely pleased that we weren't talking. He talked to his favored son about his Mathletes competition next week, his voice was dripping with smugness, now that he felt assured again that I wouldn't be able to turn Heero against him. He mistakenly thought I had given up.

On the fifth day of silence, while we were up in Heero's room, my brother was in the bathroom and I was watching videos on my laptop. I knew what he doing, but I tried to distract myself and hoped being annoyed at my silence hadn't triggered him. Based on the amount of scars, I didn't think it had anything to do with me, it was something he did frequently.

I was halfway into a cat-video when I heard his muffled voice call my name. I pretended not to hear him, I didn't want to see him like that again, seated on the bathroom floor, with rivulets of blood running down his thighs.

"Duo, come in here."

I snapped my laptop shut and momentarily froze. His tone of voice was urgent. I got up on my feet and approached the bathroom door. I opened it apprehensively.

Heero was in his usual spot on the floor, his 'bag of accessories' next to him. The bloodied razor was on the edge of the tub. His face was deathly pale. He was holding bundled up bandages and tissues to the inside of his leg, but the blood was soaking through and there was a steady dribble that fed the puddle of blood on the tile, between his thighs.

My heart rate sped up instantly. "Jesus Christ." It were the first words I had spoken to him in nearly a week, but I wasn't concerned with that anymore.

"I went a little too deep. It won't stop." Heero's explanation was remarkably calm, but perhaps that was only because he was exhausted; the life was literally draining out of him. "I need you to come here and press the bandages onto the cut more tightly."

I stammered something nonsensical and gazed down at my shaking hands, horrified at the thought of his life being in my hands.

"It's fine. If you just press it on tightly for a little bit it will stop. I waited too long and now my hands are too weak." He chuckled breathlessly and a sick smile spread across his lips.

I stumbled forwards and knelt on the floor. With my hands halfway towards him I hesitated.

"Hold the bandages with one hand and my leg with the other and squeeze."

"I think I should get Cameron." I could hardly believe I had said that, but it was my instinct. It seemed to me Heero needed to go to the hospital.

"Please don't."

I looked in his eyes and saw the heartfelt plea. He was scared. Not scared of dying, but scared of dealing with Cameron in this situation. I nodded and took the ball of bandages in one hand and gripped his thigh with the other to keep his leg steady as I pressed the cloth against it as tightly as I could.

Heero hissed in pain but said: "That's good."

"This looks serious…"

"It's just a vein. I've done it before. It'll clot and close up in a moment."

I tried to calm myself by regulating my breathing; in through the nose and out through the mouth. My gaze was focused on my hands, to minimize the trembling. After about a minute, which felt like an hour, I looked up at Heero and noticed he had his eyes closed. "Heero?"

"I'm fine," He replied, sounding annoyed. He opened his eyes and chuckled bitterly at my panicked expression.

"Do you think this is funny?" I steeled my nerves. "Did you really need me in here, or were you just trying to get me to talk by freaking me out?"

"Relax, Jesus. Do you really think I would let you barge in on my private ritual and let you touch me for something so trivial?"

I wasn't sure if I could believe him, but I didn't feel like arguing with him. I held onto his leg and applied pressure to the wound until he ordered me to let go. I sat back and watched him carefully remove the ball of bandages and inspect the wound. The blood flow seemed to have stopped. He taped a fresh bandage to his inner thigh routinely, making sure it was on tight. Still seated on the floor he reached for a new roll of toilet paper and started soaking up the blood that was on the floor. "You can leave now," He said irritably.

"Shouldn't you get up and clean up?" He had been partly sitting in the pool of his own blood, staining his navy blue underwear and there were droplets on his white shirt as well.

"I have to sit here for a little while longer. I'll pass out if I get up too soon." He seemed to be speaking from experience.

I nodded. "Then I'm not going anywhere."

He only grunted in response.

"Heero," I started, since he had no choice but to listen to me anyway, "I know someone. An old friend of my mother's."

He exhaled deeply and affixed his disinterested gaze on me.

"She could help us."

He snorted and was about to interject with some snarky comment, but I went on: "She's a good person. She'll take care of us. She will protect us."

"From him?" He questioned. "Do you know this woman well enough to put that kind of faith in her?"

I stared at him as he continued to challenge my proposal for an escape.

"Cameron has money and political gravitas on his side. What does she have?"

"The truth."

"The truth is worthless against a smith who has mastered the art of lying. People are always more easily convinced by a compelling lie than a horrible truth."

I shook my head. "That's bullshit. If you tell people what he has done to you and there will be a real investigation, there is no way he can twist the facts to suit himself."

"He has done so every single time so far."

"I don't understand you! We could do this," I insisted.

"I don't want to!"

I reeled back.

"How many more times are we going to have this exact conversation? If you want to leave, you should. If it's just you, I think you could get away, I don't think he cares enough at this point. The longer you wait - the more you piss him off - the more difficult it will be for you to get away. If you make it so he wants to punish you, he will never let you go."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"I'm not going anywhere. It is pointless to try."

I crawled closer to him, still hoping to convince him. "If we make it hard enough for him to find us, he'll gave up eventually."

"I earn him money and prestige. He won't give that up. If I would leave, he would turn the whole world upside down to find me, if only to punish me for damaging his business and his reputation."

I noticed the hint of pride in his voice and it sickened me. Logically, I understood Heero had to adapt to be able to survive in the given circumstances, but it was impossible to empathize with his measure of determination even in the face of a possible escape. "Why won't you just think about it before immediately shooting my ideas down?! We can do this! We can get away from him! We have to try, at least!"

"Stop saying these things!"

"Heero-"

"If I were to leave now the past eight years have all been for nothing!" He screamed hoarsely and then his eyes widened and his chest started to heave with pants as he was shocked by his own outburst.

Unwillingly he had revealed a deeper level to his determination to stay. He had already invested so much to get what he wanted from Cameron – and had to let go of so much, including his own dignity and self-worth – leaving at such a late stage would negate everything: he would have been sodomized and whored off for nothing. His past investment compelled him to continue to commit to his method. By admitting that, he came closer than he ever had before to admitting that he knew what Cameron did to him was wrong and that, reasonably, there was a way out for them, if we dared to take it.

I watched as he covered his face with his hands, hiding his expressions as he dealt with his emotional turmoil. When he lowered his hands back into his lap his features were once more molded into a cold look of indifference, but I knew he was simply hiding the truth from me.

I moved even closer to him, ignoring the flicker of discomfort in his eyes at me invading his personal space. "Heero, you want a bright future, right? That's what all of this is about? That is what all your sacrifices were for, right?"

He shrugged, as if he didn't care.

"You can still have that. In fact, you can only have that, if we get out of here. Heero, you are a genius. A freaking child prodigy. You could get a scholarship for every school you want, you don't need Cameron's money. What you need is for him to be out of your life, or else he will continue to abuse you, even when you go off to school."

He looked off to the side. "Even if I did believe you…" He trailed off. "Even if I did, it doesn't change the fact that he will never let me go. You saw how it was when we went to the movie theater. He manipulates the law into being on his side and he can get everything done. Years ago, I told people what he did to me, but there was no evidence and so here I am. Still. He convinced them that I was confused and traumatized by my childhood. No one ever took me seriously."

I bit my lip. I believed him. Ruby had also warned me of his power and the dangerous way in which he wielded it. After a moment of contemplation I concluded: "Then we need evidence. There has to be something."

"You'll never find it. He's too careful. He has lasted this long, after all."

I took hold of his shoulders and made him look at me. "Heero, if I find indisputable evidence, the kind of evidence that will get him locked up and us out of his reach, do you promise me to leave with me?"

He didn't say anything. He looked at me blankly.

"Heero…" I felt a tear run down my cheek. "Heero, please, promise me. You deserve better than this, don't you believe that?"

Disregarding my question, he restated: "You'll never find evidence to implicate him."

I roughly wiped away the trails of tears on my face and said through gritted teeth: "If you really believe that than you should have no problem making this promise to me."

"Fine," He growled.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

I let out a quivering breath that I had been holding. "Thank you." Against better judgment I leaned in and hugged him. It was awkward, he didn't return the embrace, but I needed it. My mother raised me to be a bit of a touchy-feely guy.

It felt like the hard part was over, but that was misguided. The challenge was to find proof, the kind of proof that would land Cameron behind bars. I knew that wouldn't be easy, but at least I had a goal; a purpose and that washed away some of the helplessness that had suffocated me like six feet of dirt.

I didn't even know what I was looking for, exactly, making it all the more difficult to find it. It would have to be something concrete, if they weren't going to take Heero's word it, other testimonies wouldn't do either. But I doubted anything ever happened in the house, Cameron wouldn't allow that, that would be reckless. That was why he took Heero 'fishing' twice a year, that was where it happened. The cabin, however, was not available to me for research and in spite of his threats, I suspected Cameron would never bring me there, in the very least not in the capacity to snoop around.

Cameron's office would be a good place to start. I remembered, from when I first arrived and made my rounds through the house, that my father kept his computer behind lock and key. Something incriminating had to be on there, otherwise a password would do, but with his son being a computer genius he needed an extra, more tangible layer of defense.

At the very first opportunity, when I was left alone in the house, I went into his office and studied the locked cabinet. Wires that fed the screen came out holes in the back that were precisely drilled. It wasn't an easy lock to pick either. Curiosity had nourished the immoral skill in me, but I could only unlock the standard, simple ones. A disc tumbler lock, like the one I was staring at, was definitely out of my league. The cabinet could be forced open quite easily, it was just wood, but there was no way for me to get to the computer without leaving behind evidence. That would only be acceptable if I knew for certain I would be able to find what I needed. As it stood, it was an unwise risk. I turned my attention to the bookcase and scrutinized the combination of pharmaceutical and legal textbooks and collected knickknacks. It was hardly informative. I leafed through a number of books as if I expected one of them to be a damning diary in disguise.

Helplessness quickly returned.

Heero pretended like nothing had happened, he didn't act any differently and the days went on as they always had. I suspected he didn't want me to find anything, which would explain why he wasn't willing to help. He still viewed it as an enormous risk that would never pay off. He didn't understand the urgency, he didn't understand the necessity and he wasn't going to make an effort to try to understand. It was a slippery slope for him, once he started down that path he would soon descend into darkness as it would confront him with all that he had done in the past. He had reached a point where it was easier for him to look the other way. He didn't cover his mirrors without reason, he wouldn't be able to stand the sight of himself. Unmasking Cameron and the investigation that would follow would be horribly confrontational for Heero. Making him look in that mirror was cruel, but it was necessary if I were to save him.

Until that time, I didn't torment him with the thought of it. I remained as lighthearted around him as I possibly could, perhaps also for my own benefit, as a welcome distraction. My brother responded unexpectedly well to that. I assumed he was so relieved that I wasn't forcing him to talk about it – which he must have feared after our conversation on the bathroom floor -, that he decided to reward me with a kinder demeanor on his part. I could almost see the elation and gratitude in his eyes.

I challenged him to a videogame rematch and he agreed and I unintentionally unearthed an addictive quality to his personality because we ended up gaming for the entire duration of the weekend. We were normal kids, battling each other through virtual characters and smack talking on the side to psych the other out. On Sunday afternoon we even did a couple of mission where we teamed up as allies as opposed to fighting like mortal enemies and that was even better. I enjoyed how invested he got in each game. He really couldn't stand losing which meant he actually seemed to prefer us working as a team, increasing the odds of obtaining victory, and I happily followed him as he asserted himself as the leader of our 'dynamic duo'. I laughed a lot that weekend. It had been a long time since I had laughed like that. It felt good. I even caught Heero smirking on occasion and that gave me the same funny feeling in my stomach as Grant's bulging biceps had, although fortunately there were no more instances of an inconvenient and embarrassing surprise-erection.

Cameron was less amused. He got clued in at dinner on Monday when he overheard Heero and I quietly strategizing about how to assassinate the fictional, barbaric president for the benefit of a make-belief country.

I fell silent when I noticed how he was looking at me, like only a thin thread of restraint kept him from leaping across the table and strangling me right then and there. The scary part was that if he ever did try to kill me, Heero and Tabytha would be unable to stop him. They might not even try. I liked to think my brother had grown fond of me, within his own, emotional limitations, but he was too much under Cameron's control. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say he had grown accustomed to me, as opposed to fond of me. He would miss me, but only in the way you miss the Christmas tree in the living room after the holidays are over, and that only lasts a couple of days.

I would miss him more than a Christmas tree.

"Are you going to eat that?" I pointed at the quarter of cucumber in his lunchbox. We were sitting at the bottom of the staircase, in between classes. He tolerated my presence at school as well nowadays.

"I don't share food."

I grimaced. I thought that a piece of cucumber might be a good place to start but I discovered he was still vehemently against sharing. That must have something to do with his past, when he had been forced to share everything with his many siblings.

We ate our lunch quietly and even though he never touched the piece of cucumber, he didn't offer it to me and after the bell rang he threw it into the trash. It was an unsubtle wake-up-call, but one I needed. Things had almost been going too well the past week, I was starting to forget that I was dealing with a deeply damaged person. I had to tread carefully.

As we were walking to class, I wondered out loud: "So… you have that Mathletes thing today, right?"

"Hn."

"Are you going by yourself?"

"Cameron usually takes me."

I bit my lower lip and watched him read his book for his Spanish class for a minute, he wasn't even paying attention to where he was walking. "Is there really a Mathletes competition?"

He looked up from the pages with a quirked eyebrow. "Yes."

"I should come with you."

"Don't bother. We are really only going to the competition. You will be bored and you will irritate me."

"You don't think he'll do anything? Make the best of the opportunity?"

"I'm too old for Cameron," He reiterated.

"But not too old for his buddies."

He sighed. It was the first time we had talked about it since the big talk in the bathroom. The topic was an inconvenience for him. "We are coming straight home after the competition. There will be no time for anything else. He is careful, I told you."

"Tabytha knows," I decided to share.

He snorted. "Of course she does. She's not as stupid as she pretends to be. Her and Cameron, they are both excellent at their little game of pretend. Two variations of the same charade. She pretends she doesn't know and Cameron pretends he doesn't know that she knows. It works for them, as it appears."

"What is to stop him from spending the night away from home with you and arranging something with his pals on the fly? Is the game of pretend really that important?"

"Yes. I thought you understood, knowing the truth is different from having evidence to discredit the lie. As long as he doesn't give her anything more than a suspicion, she will never be compelled to act."

"I don't think it'll last," I mulled. "I want to come with you."

"I get off at two, whereas you have shop class until four in the afternoon. We have to leave at three if we want to be there on time. It is impossible for you to accompany us."

"I'll cut class."

He looked at me sideways and smirked darkly. "Cameron will find out and he will be very angry."

"I don't care."

"That's because you've never seen him really angry. Don't give him a reason to teach you to fear him."

"He got angry with me after the wedding, that time in the car," I fired back.

"That was nothing. Trust me, when you've really angered him, you will know."

I swallowed.

"Do us both a favor and don't anger him."

To appease him I agreed, albeit reluctantly. We went our separate ways. I wouldn't see him again until he and Cameron would come home later that night and that knowledge made me sick.

In shop class I took my frustration out on a piece of sheet metal, hammering it into shape. The swinging of my arm and the violent impact was so satisfying however, that I ended up disfiguring the piece, rendering it useless and the teacher scolded me for wasting material as I went to get a new piece.

Following the ring of the bell I sluggishly made my way back to the house. I decided I would wait for Heero in his room, just to be sure. Tabytha wouldn't stop me, she had been avoiding eye contact with me all week. It appeared the guilt was tormenting her, but she deserved it so I cherished no semblance of sympathy for her.

I stepped through the front door and was about to head upstairs to retrieve my laptop to bring it with me to Heero's room above the garage, when a deep voice said my name and scared the shit out of me.

Standing at the end of the hallway, in the doorway to his office, was Cameron.

Quickly composing myself, I wondered: "Did the competition get canceled?"

"No. I asked Tabytha to take Heero."

I raised my eyebrows.

Cameron chuckled. "You'd be surprised at how good of a mother she can be, if you promise her jewelry. You see, people are quite willing to do things when you have the right kinds of rewards to offer them."

"Most people," I corrected him, "Not all. Some people can't be bribed."

"I agree." He took a few steps towards me. "Some people also need to be scared into doing your bidding."

I eyed him suspiciously. When he took another step closer, I stepped back.

He chuckled. "I'm not going to hurt you, Duo."

I adjusted the shoulder strap of my bag nervously. My heart was beating wildly.

"Come into my office for a minute." He turned around and walked back to where he came from. He stood in the middle of the office and waited for me to join him.

After a moment of frightful contemplation I followed him inside. The only thought that kept me from running out the door was that it would be illogical for him to murder me in his own house, he would risk leaving forensic evidence.

"Sit down."

I moved to take a seat in one of the lounge chairs facing the desk, but he stopped me.

"No no, over there." He nodded at his big, leather desk chair.

I did as I was told, sinking into the soft leather. The sensation of being cradled by the comfortable chair did little to soothe me.

"I see the way you look at him," He started calmly. Then he grinned and it made me physically ill. "Like father, like son. We have the same taste."

"I'm not like you," I argued through gritted teeth, even though it was exactly the thing that had me worried and had me bathed in a cold sweats whenever a nightmare haunted me.

"Then why do you want the same things that I do?" He pushed the framed picture of his adoptive son that was on his desk closer to me and he remarked: "I don't blame you. He is still beautiful…"

Still? "You liked him better when he was younger, didn't you?"

"I loved him when he was younger."

The way he said 'loved' sent a shiver down my spine, the word was dripping with a abhorrent type of lust.

"From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I knew I had to have him. His eyes were so big. His mouth was so small…"

"Stop it…"

"You will never have him," Cameron continued. "Not in any sense of the word. I know you are trying to turn him against me and for a moment you had me concerned, but you will not succeed. Heero is too far gone to go back. He is mine," He emphasized the final word.

I shook my head, I refused to believe him. "I'm going to take him away from you."

He walked around the desk and leaned in close. He whispered: "I could beat you to within an inch of your life and blame it on bullies at your school. The headmaster tells me you've had some run-ins already."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I would beat you, if I thought that is what is going to keep you on your best behavior. But I don't think that is going to be a long-term solution." He sat back on the edge of his desk, looking casual and collected. "Maybe you are the kind of person that can be bribed. I think I have the right kind of reward."

I looked up at him. I tried to stop my lower lip from quivering, I didn't want to show any weakness, but I was on the verge of tears and didn't know how long I could stop myself from becoming an emotional wreck.

"You want to fuck Heero. You want to kiss him and touch him and… make love to him," He mocked. "I can give you that."

I shook my head. "I don't want that."

"It's quite alright, Duo. You don't need to be ashamed. Heero will do as I tell him. He will have sex with you if I tell him to."

"I don't want that!"

He sighed, he was annoyed more than anything.

"You sick son of a bitch!" I shouted. "One day, soon, Heero is going to open his eyes and see what kind of monster you are and he'll be dragging me out the front door instead of the other way around and you will never see us again!"

"What, exactly, is going to make him open his eyes?" He challenged self-assuredly. "I've gotten him this far. He is still here. He is still compliant. After everything that has already been done to him, he still has his eyes closed. Do you even know?"

"I saw Patrick," I reminded him.

He scoffed. "Patrick barely touched him. You know nothing." He smirked. "If you can't be frightened and you can't be bribed, it is time to educate you."

I watched him with fearful eyes as he walked to the far wall of the office and opened a framed painting like a kitchen cabinet and revealed a small safe behind it. He routinely punched in a code and when the safe was opened I saw stacks of money, notebooks and a gun. My entire body went rigid. What he retrieved was a seemingly innocuous USB drive. He unlocked the cabinet to access his computer; he booted it up and inserted the drive.

"Let's watch a couple of home-movies, since you are part of the family now."

"I don't want to see."

"I know. That's the point." He came to stand behind me and with a small remote he went through the video-files. "Let's start with one of the older ones. This is actually one of my favorites." He selected the file and pressed play and then placed both of his big hands on my shoulders, holding me in place and he made me watch; forced me to see how he abused Heero and how he let others abuse him.

The screen filled with the shaky recordings of a stylish living room, made by a handheld camera. Most of the surroundings were white and bright, but at the focus were two enormous grey couches where seven men were seated. Some of them were fully nude, others only had their pants undone. They were all middle aged and if it wasn't for their demented expressions they could probably pass as respectable businessmen. Most of them had grey hair or were balding, two of them were uncomfortably overweight.

"We were wondering when you were finally going to share your toy with us," One of them remarked just as a tall, blonde man stepped into frame. I recognized it to be Cameron, but he purposefully never faced the camera and clearly the cameraman was instructed to keep him anonymous; more often than not the screen cut him off at the shoulders. The camera panned down further.

Crawling on his hands and knees next to Cameron, was Heero, his mop of wild hair was unmistakable. He was completely naked but he wore a heavy metal collar with a small, gold bell that jingled delicately with his every movement. A leash was attached to the collar and Cameron was holding the end of it, directing Heero to the center of the room, in front of the two couches, putting him on display for the men.

My sight was blurring as my eyes filled up with tears. Judging by his slight frame and the fact that his head looked a little too big for his body, he was obviously much younger than he was now. I estimated him to be about twelve years old – an age at which he was already starting to get too old for Cameron.

I looked away when Cameron dragged him by the leash to one of the men.

"It is important that you see this, Duo," My father said.

I glanced at the screen and saw Cameron grab Heero by the back of his neck and force his face into the man's lap. The man cupped his small face in his greedy hands and started to moan when Heero dipped his head lower and then started bobbing up and down. The bell on his collar jingled a tune that I knew I would never forget.

"He's good," The man commented, soon sounding out of breath.

"He has had a lot of practice," Cameron replied, consciously distorting the sound of his own voice. He leaned down to pet the back of Heero's head. At his instructions his son continued to pleasure the man until he tugged on the leash and led him to the man to the left.

"When do we get to fuck him?" One of the guys on the other couch asked, leaning forward to get a better view of the spectacle.

"Not for a while. His ass is still mine. I'm not done with him yet."

The men laughed when Heero made a choking sound and his body convulsed because the man he was servicing pushed his head down further, forcing him to take more of him into his mouth than he could handle.

"Be careful," Cameron chastised. "You break it, you buy it."

"Please stop," I begged. "I don't want to see this."

"You're right, let's move on." He paused the video, exited the full screen and then selected another.

I shook my head. "No, I don't want to see any of this!" I winced when he grabbed my braid and pulled it down to make me look up at him.

"I have to make you understand, Duo. To understand, you have to see this." With his hand on the top of my head he directed my attention back to the computer screen where a new video had started.

The settings were different. The walls were covered with wood, the floor was hard wood, thick rafters supported the pitched ceiling, a stag's head was mounted above a fireplace. It was a cabin. It was the 'fishing' cabin, I realized.

I didn't see Heero at first, the camera was turned another way, but I heard someone moan, like an animal in pain and I knew it was him, even though the voice sounded nothing like what I was used to. More men had gathered than in the last video. As the cameraman maneuvered through the crowd – every single one of the men looking in the same direction – I counted almost two dozen. Most of them were fully dressed, fondling themselves through their pants with no intentions of getting naked. They were content to watch.

The moans got louder and the camera focused on Heero.

He was on his back on the narrow end of the dining room table. All the chairs had been cleared away. Two men stood on either side of him, holding his ankles up high and spread far apart. A big man stood at the end of the table and clawed at his thighs as he fucked him.

I swallow bile that came up from my stomach reactively.

Heero's raspy moans and desperate wails drowned out the groans and filthy comments made by the observers. There was rope around his wrists but the ends of it hung loosely, he had been tied up at one point but wasn't restrained anymore, who knew how long they had been going at him before the camera had started to roll. Heero wasn't fighting the men off, he just gripped the edge of the table with white-knuckled hands, holding on as his entire body shook with the force of their thrusts. He looked like he was about thirteen or fourteen years old.

A total of five men took turns fucking him, some of them jerking at the boy's half-hard dick. A laughter spread through the crowd when one of them managed to get him to orgasm; the semen only dribbled out of the head of his penis. One of them moved in and licked it up. He got quiet after that and his hands went limp.

I tried to fight my way out of the chair but Cameron was much stronger than me and he held me down.

The camera zoomed in on Heero's face. He looked exhausted. He was looking straight at the camera but his eyes were empty and unfocused. They didn't stop and after a while Heero passed out and they had the nerve to laugh again, but they still didn't stop. One of them even pulled his head to the edge of the table and forced his mouth open and he pushed the head of his penis past his lips.

"It gets boring once he's out cold," Cameron said and he aimed the remote to select another video. He scrolled all the way to the bottom and selected the most recent recording. I even recognized the date, it was the weekend he had taken Heero to the cabin, under the pretense of going fishing. It hurt me to know that it had happened 'under my watch', as if I could have stopped it, if only I had known.

The décor was the same as the previous video, confirming that was the interior of the family cabin upstate. For this event the entire living room had been cleared of furniture. Men stood in a circle to observe the show, some were sick enough to participate. Heero was at the center of the video frame, rope was coiled elaborately around his chest and arms. With his hands tied above his head to the rafters, he could barely touch the floor with his feet. He struggled to remain balanced on the tips of his toes. He didn't look scared, he looked like he was concentrating on the task of remaining standing and with regards to everything else happening around him – men shamelessly masturbating to the sight of him – he was distant and detached.

One at a time 'customers' stepped forward, to the cheering of others, and they lay their hands on him. Some of them even had the audacity to kiss him and he let them. Most grabbed his hips and fucked him roughly from behind. All the while, Heero didn't make a sound. One of them, when it was his turn, boldly approached him from the front and had Heero wrap his long legs around his waist, so he could fuck him and ravage his mouth at the same time. He tried to antagonize Heero, tried to get him to pull an expression or make a sound that would please him but the Japanese boy defied him and only glared at him.

I closed my eyes, I couldn't stand to see any more of the torture, but the grunts of the men and the sounds of sweaty flesh slapping together, were merciless and the things I saw behind my closed eyelids were just as bad. And I could hear Cameron panting, he was enjoying the sight of it.

They continued for God knows how long, judging by the audio the video skipped forward in time a couple of times.

"Cam, I think he needs a little pick-me-up."

I opened my eyes when I heard one of them say an abbreviation of Cameron's name. Cameron was enjoying the video too much to notice. I watched the screen. Heero was alone at the center of the room, still tied up. His head was lolling from side to side and his eyes threatened to roll back. A fully dressed male approached him and it was Cameron. Again, he kept his back turned towards the camera. However, as he held a butter knife with white powder up to Heero's face, he accidentally partly revealed himself to the lens. With his free hand he held Heero's head steady by the chin and he brought the knife up to his nose.

As he had stated, it was 'boring' when Heero passed out, so he gave him drugs to keep him conscious and alert.

Without needing to be told to do so, my brother snorted the white powder up his nose. He seemed grateful for it.

I closed my eyes again when Cameron walked off screen and another man approached Heero. The moans were awful, even more so because Heero started to moan as well. High on whatever drug he had been fed, he began to enjoy the physical sensations and judging by the catcalls and whistles the crowd was pleased.

I didn't open my eyes until the video was finally paused and my father moved to kneel in front of me. I didn't want him to know I had been looking for the past few minutes, afraid he would make me watch more.

"Do you see now, Duo? There's no coming back from this."

"I don't need him to come back. I just need him to get away from you," I said through gritted teeth.

He smirked. "You always have a smart answer ready. But you are not actually very smart." He got up and disconnected the USB drive and safely stored it away in the safe. "Do you know why we are having this conversation right now?"

I shook my head and stubbornly wiped away new tears.

"Heero told me you were going to look for evidence, to get me locked up."

My eyes widened, I couldn't believe he had betrayed my intentions like this. I thought we had been making progress!

"Heero and I had a pleasant talk."

I didn't doubt that it was anything but pleasant.

"He is a genius," He stated, bemused, "At math, among other things. He did some very sound calculations. He could tell me what his big brother has been secretively whispering in his ear, or he could let me dry-fuck him with a dildo that is altogether much too large for him." He chuckled and noted as an afterthought: "After eight years you have to get more creative than simple beatings for punishment."

Gripping the armrests tightly, I spat at him: "Heero also told me I would never find any evidence. If you hadn't shown me those videos, I would have believed him and I might have given up looking."

"And where's the fun in that?" He mocked. "I wanted you to know that there is proof of what I've been doing to him. And I wanted you to know that you would never be able to get your hands on it," He rapped his fist against the solid metal door of the safe. "You see, when you really want somebody to obey, you have to break them first, only then will a potent combination of threats and bribery be effective. I broke Heero and now I need to break you. In your own, self-destructive ways, you are brave; your mother raised you that way, I suspect. To break you, you need to know there is no hope. So, I wanted you to know exactly what I do to your little brother, and that there is nothing you can do about that."

I panted harshly through my flared nostrils and fought the urge to lunge at him. If I had any faith that I could overpower him, I would, but he was bigger than me and stronger than me and there was one other thing my mother taught me, aside from bravery: people underestimate you when they think they have you beat and that is how you will eventually claim victory. So I did nothing, I sat there, glaring at him and let him think he had landed the crippling blow.

I wasn't about to give up.


	14. Chapter 14

**Brothers**

**Chapter Fourteen**

As soon as he let me, I ran away, stumbling through the hallway. My legs were numb and unsteady and I had to put one hand on the wall to keep myself from keeling over. I was so distraught that I was physically ill and the tears that streamed freely down my face prickled in my eyes and nearly left me blind. I groped my way through the house and hoped I wouldn't fall or I'd have to continue on all fours when I was already impossibly humiliated. I didn't run up to my room, I headed for the garage and then up the winding staircase to Heero's room; the private, secluded, isolated bedroom.

I had a better understanding than ever of what must have happened in that room, even though I hadn't seen it in the videos. In that room he trained him, he had all the privacy he needed. Far enough removed from Tabytha so she would never hear or see a thing and she was free to play ignorant.

I made my way towards the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet bowl. I dry-heaved and coughed and spat a few times but I couldn't force the sickness out of me, it had settled deep inside my stomach and upset everything. I leaned over the seat, not even able to sit upright and I sobbed and wailed.

He had been just a young boy! So young. I could imagine he had been hopeful when he was adopted and first brought home with Cameron and Tabytha, with the promise of being taken away from the hardship his biological mother had subjected him to. Everything was supposed to get better, he deserved better, but instead he got pulled into another sickening nightmare and at such a young age he had to adapt to survive, letting his own adoptive father as well as strangers do those things to him.

I flushed the toilet and got up and maneuvered to the sink to wash my face. The sight of the opaque mirror only served to further break my heart. Whether or not he could admit it, he hated himself so much he couldn't stand the sight of his own reflection. He was never treated as a real person so it probably never even occurred to him that he deserved to be treated better. Did he even know he was a person with rights? All he had ever known was sacrifice and pain.

It would have been me, I knew. It should have been me. Why was I recued and was Heero thrown under the bus in my stead? That wasn't right. I wondered with a heavy heart if my mother had ever suspected that he would simply replace me with another young boy. If she did, was she really so powerless against him to stop it? Maybe he had succeeded in brainwashing her to that extent, the way he had brainwashed both Tabytha and Heero. As powerful as he was, with friends in all the right places, he was not untouchable, but he had managed to convince them all that he was. His true power relied on that illusion, but I would not be tricked by it, certainly not now. He was not infallible, I knew it, I had seen it. I had seen his face in one of the videos, that had to be enough to convince a judge, jury and executioner.

I scrambled back into the bedroom, the white mirror looming over me had only upset me further. Even though I was not allowed, I could not stop myself from dropping down on his bed, on my stomach and I hugged one of his pillows to me.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!"

He had been carrying this burden all by himself all those years and it wasn't fair. He wasn't even supposed to be here! This was supposed to be my room. These were supposed to me my nightmares. It felt like it was my fault, although I was too young to understand what was going on when my mother took me away and I had always been kept in the dark, I felt responsible. If I had stayed, if I had been here for my father to abuse, Heero might have been adopted by a family that would have actually been nice to him, that would have erased his hurts from the past as opposed to exploiting them to ensure his obedience. I would have been the tormented soul, but in a way I thought I could have been at peace with that, after all, I was born into this family, it was my destiny to be here. I was the son of that monster, if anyone deserved to be victimized by him, it would be me.

Paralyzed by fear, guilt and regret I lay on the bed mourning the loss of his innocence. Although Cameron had said it for shock-value and to discourage me, there was an honest truth to his question: could anyone come back from that? How was he ever expected to live a normal life? He seemed well-adjusted – well enough – when I first arrived, but that was just another survival tactic. His mind had been fractured, every image of the world was distorted.

I didn't know if I could save him from that, from himself, from what he had become. But I could save him from Cameron, I had to try at least.

Hours later someone came up the stairs. I relaxed when I could tell by the footfalls alone that it was Heero. I had gotten to know him pretty well. I didn't move from the bed, there was no point trying to hide the fact that I had been lying there all afternoon, besides, his arrival caused me to start crying again and I hugged the pillow to me tighter. I wished my mother was there to comfort me, but that was selfish. The person who needed comfort was Heero, but he would never accept any kind of sentiment, too broken to recognize how much he needed it.

The door opened and he froze as soon as he spotted me sprawled over his bed on top of his sheets. Angrily he reminded me: "I told you my bed was off-limits!"

I turned to him, revealing my weepy face; my red eyes and my wet cheeks. I didn't expect him to be sympathetic, I didn't think he was capable of it.

The anger melted away from his features and they contorted into fear. I had never seen him express any emotion so clearly and so honestly. He couldn't hide his expression, regardless of how much he undoubtedly wanted to. "What happened?" He inquired. He closed the door and leaned back against it. "What did he do to you?" The tone of his voice changed. "I told you you should have left, didn't I?! I told you!"

Realizing what he thought had happened I pushed myself up and into an upright position. "No, he didn't touch me."

He demanded: "What happened?"

My bottom lip started to tremble again. I felt despicable for being such a mess in front of him when he was the one who had managed to stay strong in spite of everything. "He showed me. He showed me what he did to you! What he let others do to you." I clutched the pillow to my upset stomach. There was no way for me to stop the flow of tears.

"He showed you the videos?" He ignored the whimper that slipped past his lips in between the words and he hardened his face. He repeated pressingly: "He showed you the videos?"

I nodded. "Yes. Did- Did you know there were videos?"

He snorted and tried to be cool and casual about it as he answered: "Yes, of course, I'm not blind."

"If you knew, then why did you tell me there was no evidence?"

"I never said that. I said you would never find any evidence." He looked off to the side.

I shook my head at the semantics.

"Did he show you where he keeps them?"

I stared at him. "Yes…"

"Then it worked," He concluded and he looked off to the side.

"Wait. What? What worked?"

Monotonously he explained: "I told him you were looking for evidence of what he had done. I figured there was a chance he was arrogant enough to show you."

I blinked and my heart skipped a beat. "It was a trick?"

He looked at me sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I… I thought you had ratted me had because you didn't want me to succeed."

He stared blankly. "There would be absolutely no benefit to that," He deduced.

I got up from the bed, dropping the pillow to the floor, and before he could shy away, I wrapped my arms around him and embraced him. "You really are a genius," I muttered into his wild hair.

He allowed the hug momentarily, but he quickly pushed against my chest to get me away from him. "Don't get any ideas. I still think your plan is futile and dangerous."

"My plan is dangerous?" I challenged, "What about your plan, telling Cameron that I was looking for stuff. That could have easily blown up in our face."

"Yes, but it doesn't matter. It will fail either sooner and later. If it had failed soon, at least we would have been done with it." He pushed past me and picked the pillow up from the floor. He fluffed it and placed it back on the bed before bending forward and smoothing the wrinkles out the sheets. He tucked the ends in so tightly you could bounce a coin off the bed.

I watched him work, scrutinizing the precision of his movements. After what I had seen, I didn't understand how it was possible that he had not been reduced to a sobbing mess. He had been treated so inhumanely, it was a marvel that he had not shrunk into a dark corner like a frightened animal. "Heero…" I started. His back tensed at my tone. "About what I saw…"

He turned around and glared at me. It was clear he did not want to discuss it.

"I'm sorry." Inwardly I laughed darkly at how useless and meaningless my apology was. It didn't change anything. It didn't help him any way.

"I'm sorry you saw that."

I shook my head. "You had to suffer through that. If you can do that, I can suffer through only watching it."

"That's not what I meant. I'm not sorry you saw it because it hurt you. I'm sorry because I know you will pity me all the more now. But I don't need your pity. I don't need you to look at me like that," He gestured at my sorrowful expression.

I didn't know what to say. Of course I pitied him, but admitting that to him would not aid our friendship nor our alliance. "I don't pity you more than I did before," I said and it was the truth, I had always pitied him, long before I knew the extent of the torment. "I do think I understand you better."

"You understand?"

I nodded. "I understand that you are exactly the way you needed to be to not go crazy. What you've been through-"

"It's just sex, Duo," He snarled.

"It is not just sex! What I saw was not just sex. I saw filthy, sweaty, greedy guys abusing you, raping you! Sex is about sharing pleasure, not about taking pleasure with force. You weren't even conscious during some of it. And you were always tied down, held down or drugged."

"Stop it…"

"I understand that you were brainwashed into thinking that it is just sex and that it is a fair compromise in exchange for getting all the things you never had. And how could you possibly know that is wrong if you don't know any better?"

"Shut up!"

"You deserve better, Heero!"

"What the fuck do you know about what I do or do not deserve? You don't even know me!"

I tried to approach him but when I stepped towards him he back up until he was against the desk. I didn't try to get closer, I didn't want him to feel cornered. "I know that everyone deserves better than this."

"I'm a fucking mongrel, Duo! An animal! I grew up on the floor stinking of shit and piss, and not just my own! The only reason I will ever deserve better is because I worked for it, I worked my way up!"

I stared at him, shocked at his outburst. Although his words did not surprise me – I had suspected twisted thinking like that were the roots of the issue – I was caught off guard by him admitting it and hearing him confirm my suspicion cut into my guts like a dull blade. I reached out to him ,wanting to comfort him, not just for his benefit but also for my own. However, he hissed at me:

"Don't touch me."

I respected his command and took a step back. I didn't want to do anything he didn't want me to, he already had enough of that in his life. "Heero," I started carefully, "I know you truly feel that way and I know you cannot imagine anything else being true… but trust me when I say that once you are out of this place, once you get help, you will know that none of that is true, that you always deserved better."

He regarded me with angry, distrusting eyes. I didn't expect differently.

"Let me help you," I urged. "Let me show you."

"We will never be free of him."

"We will. But there is only one way and going along with him, hoping he will let you be when you go to college, is not the way. Trust me, please."

"What is the way?" He challenged.

"We are going to get our hands on those videos, and we are going to show them to the press." I had already given this thought. Based on previous experiences, we couldn't trust the local police. There was a chance that the whole thing would be swept under the rug and we would be escorted home before any officer ever even had the time to take a look at the video evidence. However, if we could get the footage to a local newspaper or news channel - Hell, if we could upload it online ourselves – soon the whole country would know and public outrage would certainly demand for the case to be handled seriously and that every detail would be scrutinized. Once higher authorities would get involved, Cameron could no longer call in favors to get him out of trouble.

"You want those videos to end up on TV?" His voice betrayed a fear and a shame that he would never otherwise confess to.

"It's the only way to bypass his 'friends'. You won't be recognizable, but Cameron will be."

He stared at me and for the first time I dared to believe I saw a flicker of hope in his deep blue, cold eyes. "So where does he keep them?"

"There's a safe in his office, hidden in the wall behind a painting."

He scoffed. "A safe? How are we supposed to get our hands on something that is locked away in a safe?"

"We'll find a way," I assured him, ignoring the fact that I had no idea how to get them and that I knew it seemed pretty hopeless. I had dawned on me that dragging Heero to a meeting with a news reporter to tell the truth could be enough to bring Cameron's lies down around him, but honestly, as much as it pained me to say, I didn't trust Heero to stick with his story. As soon as Cameron would get wind of it, he would pressure Heero into backtracking, his hold on the young man was still strong and the whole thing could fall apart before we had managed to grab the attention of right people. It needed to be hard, irrefutable evidence, so that even if Cameron managed to sway Heero and persuade him to claim he was lying, the damage could not be undone and the authorities would get involved.

We couldn't half-ass this, we had to do it right. There was a good chance we would only get one shot at this. Once Cameron would realize his carefully constructed life was actually at risk, who knew in what way he would lash out to ensure our silence?

Until we could arrange our escape, I was going to make sure Cameron – or anyone else – would not get to lay his hands on Heero. It wasn't going to happen again 'under my watch'.

The game of pretend became very difficult. Not only around Cameron, but around Tabytha as well. It was hard to hide my quiet loathing. I despised her for her inaction. Brainwashed or not, frightened or not, she had no excuse. My mother has surely been affected by his scheming as well, but at least she could muster up the courage to get an innocent child out of his reach. Tabytha had turned a blind eye while her own husband molested the little boy they had adopted. Even to that day, she still kissed him goodbye every day and welcomed him home every evening. It sickened me. However, in spite of my act, it was clear she had figured out I knew exactly what went on the house and she was ashamed. She could barely look me in the eyes.

But Cameron and Tabytha weren't the only people I played pretend with. I did the same with Heero. I wanted to give him a break, I wanted him to forget that I had seen those videos of him. For the time being, it was the best I could offer him. The closest thing to freedom I could give him, as long as we were still in that house.

We had sleep-overs every night, I didn't dare to leave his side. Cameron objected to it, of course, but Tabytha proved to be an unlikely ally. She made the case that as long as Heero and I both maintained our grades, there was nothing wrong with us sharing a room, she said it was endearing. Cameron begrudgingly allowed it to happen. Heero was proven right. The façade was still important to him, even though we all knew what ugliness was behind it.

My brother wasn't thrilled at the thought of having me around all the time, but he never made any objections on those afternoons we wasted playing videogames, like we were supposed to do as teenagers.

I slept on a thin, twin bed mattress on the floor at the foot of his queen-sized bed. I didn't get much sleep at night, but not because I was uncomfortable – I had slept soundly in far worse conditions, like in the back of my mom's truck in a parking lot someplace – and I would certainly never suggest sharing his big bed.

Most nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, actively staying my sleep. Listening to him breathe was better than to let the nightmares consume me. When exhaustion would finally force my eyes shut and sleep would claim me, the nightmares were inevitable. They were always the same; slight variations on the same horror. Every time Heero was getting abused, he would be gritting his teeth and crying out some times, other times he would lay limply, with his eyes glazed over. Every time, it turned out I was the one forcing myself on him.

Luckily I would always jolt awake as soon as I was revealed to be the nightmarish monster.

If my nightly terrors ever woke him up, he never let it show. He seemed to remain in a deep sleep, not reacting to any of the stressed, frightened sounds I would make, much less offer me any comfort. But I didn't deserve to be comforted anyway, not when I was having those disturbing thoughts about him.

During the nights I plotted our escape, but never with much success. Clearly there was no way to get the videos from the safe, pulling off an actual heist wasn't within my capabilities. I would have to find a way to get at it when he had it open to take something out of it. How to go about that, I had no idea, but I didn't share my hopelessness with Heero.

With a shudder I remembered what else had been stored away safely behind that painting; a gun. I wondered why Cameron felt the need to own such a weapon. He was physically imposing enough to have maintained control over Heero and Tabytha all this time and I didn't doubt I would be no match for him either. Those stacks of money also had my mind running amuck, until something clicked.

Stacks of money… A gun…. The drugs he gave Heero in that video…. And he was owner and CEO of a pharmaceutical company.

I remembered Tabytha telling me the story when I had first arrived at the household. Cameron had taken over the family business and had somehow, against all odds, managed to get it to thrive in financially challenging times. He was praised as the second coming of Jesus, saving the company from certain bankruptcy when in fact there was obviously something illegal going on on the side. I didn't know how he pulled it off, but it seemed he was using some of the resources of the company to produce illegal recreational drugs.

I was tempted to shake my head at myself and brush off these thoughts as an over active imagination, but a long time ago I had the same sinking feeling about what might be happening to Heero and I ignored my instincts even when they were later proven right. I could forgive myself for that moment of naiveté because I didn't know any better, I had no logical reason to suspect this family was anything short of perfect, but I had learned my lesson. This guy – my father – should not be given the benefit of the doubt.

Shit, I thought to myself, was I really dealing with a fucking drug lord on top of everything else?

After a couple of weeks of allowing things to settle down, I knew I couldn't keep quiet to Heero any longer. I didn't want to cause him any additional distress, but I realized that he probably knew the answer to many questions that I had and I needed those answers. It was time that I knew everything, that I knew exactly what I was dealing with and what I was up against. Part of me didn't want to know. Part of me longed for that ignorance that I had enjoyed before, before I knew anything, but especially before I had seen those videos. But there was no going back, all we could do was move forward and I had to make that happen, I had to get moving and drag Heero along if I had to.

He was sitting at his desk, doing his honor roll homework and eating the sandwich I had made him. We were home alone; Cameron was at work and Tabytha had gone shopping. I stared at my own sandwich. I couldn't eat a single bite. I had lost a lot of weight in the relatively short time that had passed. Eating had become a real issue for me after I saw one of those pigs stuff his penis into Heero's mouth while the boy was out cold.

"Heero?" I started carefully. I knew it was ill-advised to bring up any kind of conversation while he was clearly trying to work, but everything that I had bottled up inside me – questions and emotions – threatened to burst out of me, rip right through the shell in which I contained them, violently and gruesomely. I couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Hn." He didn't take his eyes off his work, the scribbling movement of his pencil never slowed, but at least he acknowledged me in some small way.

"Can we talk?"

"No."

"No? Why not?"

He looked up at me with dead eyes. "Because I know what that means."

"Then you should know that we have to talk about it. We have to. We can't avoid it any longer."

"You can't," He corrected. "I can."

"Please, Heero, I need us to talk."

"Talking won't solve anything," He said and returned his attention to his books. He added as an afterthought: "And it definitely won't make you feel any better."

I sighed. "I'm not-" I stopped myself and took a moment to gather my thoughts and make sure I could keep my composure. "I'm not trying to make myself feel better. I know there is nothing that will make me feel better. My feelings aren't the goal here. Helping us get out of here is my goal. To be able to do that, we need to talk about some things."

"I don't want to talk," He reiterated.

"I don't want to talk either, I need us to talk," I emphasized.

"Whatever I have to say won't help you sleep at night."

I blinked at him. "What?" He had noticed?

"You're having nightmares, right? Because of me?"

I had a feeling he purposefully avoided eye contact, as opposed to actually trying to read the fine text. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I woke you up."

"That's not my point…" He said through gritted teeth. He shook his head angrily and finally turned to face me again. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

I stared back at him. "What do you mean?"

"You're not sleeping. You're not eating. You've really started to suck at those videogames. Why are you putting yourself through this? It's clear you can't handle it."

"What would you have me do?" I shot back.

"I told you a long time ago! You should have left when you had the chance." He growled. "But you're still here and you're making things harder on yourself that you need to. Why don't you just ride it out? You only have to be here until your eighteenth birthday. If you would just keep your head down-"

"If I keep my head down he is going to keep doing to you what he has always done to you!" I argued. "How can you possibly expect me not to act?"

"It's not your responsibility to save me! We're not brothers!"

"That doesn't change the way I feel about you! I care about you, you asshole!" I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. Why couldn't he just understand that no good person could watch someone else go through this and not do anything about it? Wait, of course he couldn't understand! All anybody ever did was abuse him or let others abuse him without offering any protection. I tried to explain to him: "I'm not going to sit on my hands and let you continue to suffer the abuse that was meant for me! So just fucking let me help you and share some of this burden with me."

"I don't want you to end up like me!" He blurted. "You can't handle it!"

I smiled wryly at him. He wouldn't admit it, but it was clear he cared about me too. "I'm stronger than you think."

"You don't look like it." He looked me up and down pointedly. "You look like shit."

"Fine, if you don't want Cameron to get to me, tell me everything." He opened his mouth to argue but I interjected: "If you tell me what I'm up against, I know what to look out for. I can protect myself. And I might be able to protect you too and figure out a way to get us out of here. For good."

"It's an illusion!"

"Illusions can be powerful. They can make things happen." After all, look at Cameron. He was not all-powerful, but as long as the right people believed he was, they would do his bidding. I knew that if I could get Heero to believe in the 'illusion', that we could get out of there, it could incite something in him; hope and, with a bit of luck, the will and strength to fight. If he was truly on my side and committed to escaping Cameron's reach, we could do it.

He rolled his eyes at me, but he gave me consent to ask him questions.

I didn't know where to start, but I decided on: "Who are those guys?"

He batted his eyelashes innocently at me. "Which guys?"

"You know damn well. Those guys in the videos. The guys who-"

"Have sex with me?"

"Rape you," I corrected.

His answer was vague, probably deliberately so. "Valued customers."

I sighed. "What does that mean? And don't be coy," I warned.

"Club owners, drug dealers, porn kings…" He looked at me defiantly and continued with smooth transition: "Family men, police officers, pastors…"

"How does Cameron know them? Did he put you up on Craigslist or something? 'Young Boypussy looking to be sodomized'?"

He reeled back at my harsh words, as hard as he tried to conceal his emotions, I could clearly see the word 'boypussy' upset him, it was a word some of the costumers had used in reference to him and I had used it on purpose to get a reaction out of him. He composed himself and informed me coldly: "I'm not the product Cameron is selling. I'm a complementary option. An additional purchase, available only to the VIP's."

"Addition to what?"

"Cameron sells them drugs."

I nodded at having my suspicion confirmed. "What kind of drugs?"

"MDMA mostly," He replied neutrally. "He uses surplus chemicals from the company to have it produced off the books."

"How do you know this? Is there proof?"

He shook his head at my naiveté. "I heard him say it. It's part of his pitch, to assure costumers that the resource is endless and untraceable. He sells it to private, individual users, but also in large quantities to lower distributors, like club-owners."

"And how do you fit into all of this?"

"Some of his best customers are the owners of gay clubs, as a result, a large part of the clientele is gay. When he wants to show them a good time, to ensure their satisfaction with his services, he brings me in. For extra cash they can join one of the parties or book a private session with me."

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. It was tempting to say that I didn't want to hear any more, but that was the coward's way out. Inaction wasn't going to help either of us. "Private… session…"

"Yes." He paused. "He didn't show you any of those videos?"

"Only- Only the 'parties', I guess. But Cameron is there during the private sessions as well?"

"Yes, he is always there. He always films everything. It is his insurance that no one is ever going to grow a conscience and place an anonymous tip or leak information, because as soon as Cameron gets scrutinized, they will be exposed themselves."

"Shit… Do- Do you know any of these guys? Like, do you know the names of some of them?"

"No."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. None of this information was actually helping, it only served to make me feel sick again. But I realized figuring out a plan of attack wasn't the only important thing about this conversation. Another goal was to understand Heero and to do that I had to know what he had been through and how he experienced it. In the process of finding out, I hoped the confrontation would cause him to reevaluate. Straying away from the pursuit of useful facts, I asked reluctantly: "What happens during the private sessions?"

He narrowed his eyes at the change of my tone and intention. "Mostly the same as what happens during the parties. They have sex with me, but there is only one."

"Mostly?"

He pursed his lips. "What do you really want to ask?"

"What's the worst thing any of them has done to you?" The question blurted out of me. I wanted to know the answer because I suspected it could be quite telling to hear what was the worst thing in his experience.

"It's just sex, Duo," He repeated for the umpteenth time.

Those weren't his words, I realized, those were Cameron's words. He put those in his head from a young age as he manipulated him into being okay with all of this. "But you don't like it, right?" I chose my words carefully. "Even if it's just sex."

"I like it sometimes."

His words chilled me to the bone; the very marrow shivered.

"The drugs help." He elaborated: "When he gives me the drugs, the pain becomes dull and distant and I feel relief and pleasure and I don't want them to stop. I want them to make me come. I usually pass out and I don't remember a lot of things by the time I wake up."

I could throw up; I felt like doubling over and puking right at his feet, but I forced myself to stay composed and I hoped my face didn't grossly betray my discomfort. "And what about when you don't get the drugs, or when they wear off?"

"It hurts, but it hurts less if I don't show them that it hurts."

My lips quivered and I felt a single tear run down my cheek. He watched me intently but he didn't react to my emotional struggle. "What hurt you the most?" I thought I spotted a flicker of distress on his features but he fought to maintain an impassive expression.

He started dryly: "One older man didn't want to have sex with me. He wanted to put his entire fist in my ass. And Cameron wouldn't give me drugs that time. The man wanted me to be lucid. He wanted me to feel the pain and he wanted me to look down and watch his hand go in. I could feel every single one of his fingers move inside me."

My face contorted. I knew he was willingly sharing the details only because he wanted me to regret asking these questions.

He concluded matter-of-factly: "That hurt a lot. I had to go to a hospital because he ripped me."

"Oh God…" I stepped back until the back of my legs hit the bed and I lowered myself down onto it, not caring that he was glaring at me and clearly didn't want to me to sit down on his perfectly made bed. "Didn't the doctors ask…?"

"Yes. I lied to them. I said I did it myself, with a toy, that it was an accident."

I covered my face with my hands, I didn't want him to see me cry, I wanted to be strong for him, but so far I wasn't doing so well. "I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry," I muttered into my palms.

"And this other time…" He went on, kicking me while I was already curled up on the floor, figuratively speaking.

"Please, please stop." I shook my head at myself. "I'm so sorry. Can we-… Can we stop for now?" I was disappointed with myself, but I couldn't handle it. I wasn't strong enough, I couldn't stomach it. I needed to take a break. Taking deep breaths through my nose I peered up at him and for a split-second I saw guilt and regret written on his face, but when he caught me looking he quickly manipulated his features into a scowl.

"Sure. We can stop."

"Thank you."

"What did it do for you?"

I frowned. "Sorry?"

"Having me say these things, what did it do for you? Did it help you?"

"I don't know… But I hope it helps you. If not now, then maybe someday in the future." With effort I offered him a smile. "I know you think I'm being childish and naïve, but I have faith."

"Faith in what?"

"Faith in justice. Faith in you. You're a pretty amazing person, I've never given you credit for that, but you are. You are strong. You've been strong all this time, dealing with this shit by yourself. Now I need you to be strong in a different way."

He looked at me, confused and mistrusting. "What if you are mistaken? What if I'm not strong and can't be strong?"

"Then I have to be strong for you."

He snorted at the sentiment. "You practically threw up listening to these stories."

I shrugged, "I guess I need to have that different kind of strength. You have the strength that has allowed you to survive all this time and maybe it's up to me to have the kind of strength that it takes to get us out of here."

"We'll see…" He mused ominously.

"We will. I'll show you."

I didn't know if I was getting through to him, but he was never again as combative as he was before. Maybe he was quietly hopeful that I would able to help him, but he could never voice that hope out loud, not even whisper it, because that would wash the foundation out from underneath the walls he had built around himself. I liked to think that meant he secretly had faith in me as well. I wasn't going to disappoint him, regardless. It was not an option.

By regularly making trips to the train station and using the payphone to call Ruby I kept in touch with her and assured her time and time again that I was fine and restated that I could not leave without Heero. It was important that I kept her in the loop because once I did manage to pull Heero out of Cameron's claws, Ruby was the only place we could go. I didn't want us to escape only have us end up living on the streets, Heero needed to be taken care off. I couldn't just whisk him away to the nomadic lifestyle that I had attempted following the death of my mother, before social services tracked me down and reunited me with my father. That was not the kind of life Heero would be able to handle, he needed stability and security or else the trauma of his childhood, as the son of a crack whore – as he himself described it – would hamper his recovery.

My mother was not wrong to leave me Ruby's contact information, hidden in the photo-album. Ruby was as nice and caring as I remembered her and she was desperate to help both me and Heero, but I couldn't give her any details, I didn't want her to get involved prematurely and have everything blow up in our face.

For the time being, the only thing I could do was to stay at Heero's side and serve as a buffer, to protect him from Cameron. Whenever I had the house all to myself, I used the privacy to search the home office, hoping maybe Cameron had unwisely scribbled the four digit code to the safe on a piece of paper and had hidden it somewhere. But those many afternoons spent searching were all in vain. Of course Cameron wasn't careless enough to leave the code lying around somewhere, especially not after showing me what exactly was in that safe.

In that safe was everything I needed to save Heero: the evidence to put Cameron in prison, the money to escape his reach and a gun to protect ourselves until he was safely locked away in a cell somewhere. As he said, it was his way of taunting me, of crippling me, but it wasn't going to work. Knowing what was in there, only fueled my determination.

Cameron noticed that his tactic had failed. He saw the fire that burned in my eyes and he saw how Heero subconsciously gravitated towards me, unknowingly seeking the protection – however feeble – that I offered. It scared him as much as it enraged him.

I needed some kind of back-up plan. What would happen if he decided to get rid of me for good? Shoot me with that gun and dispose of me and pretend I ran away? My only concern was for Heero, for him being left alone in that house again, with him. There wasn't much I could do, based on the power he had over the local police force, but I wrote everything down in a notebook – the abuse of Heero, the evidence in the safe, and the possibility that Cameron could kill me to protect his secret – and included Ruby's phone number and I hid it in my locker at school. I hoped that if something were to happen to me, the notebook would end up in the right hands. It was a small, likely useless measure, but I had to do something.

My father, however, wasn't idly sitting by either. I could tell he was plotting to do something to undermine my alliance with Heero. Not knowing what would happen was the worst fear I had experienced in my life so far. I could tell by the look in his eyes during our family dinners that he was planning something destructive and all I could do was wait and hope to be able to mend things when he dropped whatever bomb he was planning to drop.


	15. Chapter 15

**Brothers**

**Chapter Fifteen**

I had to focus on my schoolwork. The deal was that I could share Heero's room with him as long as my grades were good enough. I couldn't risk my grades dropping and being forced to leave Heero alone again, not when I knew Cameron was lurking to do some serious harm; to break Heero all over again and break the semblance of trust that had built between us. I was managing reasonably well, it didn't hurt that my brother could help me with my homework if necessary and he even tutored me when I threatened to fail an upcoming test. Especially where Physics was concerned, I was having trouble, luckily I could fall back on his expertise in particular in that class, since we were always paired up together for assignments. The source of my concentration-issues were the constant whispering and degrading remarks of typical high school bullies. I faired reasonably well ignoring them when Heero and I walked side-by-side through the hallways, but when sharing a class with them it was a challenge not to lunge at them.

Heero paid their hurtful words no attention, or so it seemed, and with a heavy heart I realized the verbal abuse he was subjected to at school paled in comparison to everything he had already been through. But their harsh words stabbed at me. They called him a whore and a slut and those words hit a sensitive target within me. Obviously all these guys knew were the rumors that Heero had fucked a teacher to improve his grade, last year, they didn't know of everything else going on, but I did and I knew Heero didn't deserve to be called such things.

The other problem was; no matter how frustrated and angry I was, I couldn't act on it, I couldn't release it on them and make them suffer the slightest smidgen of pain, because if Cameron would find out I had gotten into a brawl with classmates, he would have the perfect excuse to segregate Heero and I.

So I sat in class with my fists clenched and trembling in my lap while the teacher lectured.

The only way to protect Heero from all of it was to get him out of that goddamn place, and over and over I solemnly vowed to make this happen, even though I still had no idea how to accomplish this. Without any real evidence Cameron – and his slew of buddies in all the right places – could brush off any allegation as twisted fiction concocted by two arguably unstable teenagers. And a few weeks later, if he would even hold out that long, he will report that I 'ran away' and with me disposed of he could go back to re-indoctrinating Heero.

After the bell rang Heero and I walked down to the bike stands behind the school building in total silence, our shoulders bumping together on occasion. Walking through the long, empty hallway to the exit I noticed a group of guys trailing us, quietly laughing amongst themselves. When I shot them a look over my shoulder they burst out in a hideous cackle.

"You two are really cozy together lately!" One of them observed.

It was exactly the kind of provocation I didn't need and wouldn't be able to stand much of. Not wanting to be left alone with them at the bike stands while Heero undid the lock on his bike, I told him: "I gotta take a piss first."

My brother knew I insisted on not letting him go home without me, so rather than wasting breath arguing with me he wordlessly followed me as I took a left turn into a connected hallway which would lead back to the lunchroom and the restrooms.

Rounding the corner I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and made an effort to remain calm as I prayed the bullies would just go out to their bikes and leave us in peace. With a cringe I took note that they followed us. Their pace was unhurried but I knew they were waiting for a chance to corner us and with an appropriate sense of dread I realized the restrooms were the perfect place for them to crowd us with no escape. The cafeteria was a dead-end in and of itself and would definitely be abandoned at this hour, but I remembered that we could take the stairs up to the teacher's lounge, with a lockable door, and the teacher's lounge had a back entry connecting it to the parking lot and sport's field. If we went that way we could get a head start on them and they would have to circle back and go through the locker rooms and gym, they would never be able to catch up with us.

It was the only way to avoid a situation that Cameron could use against me, so while the boys were still dragging their feet behind us, I grabbed Heero's hand without warning and sprinted away, pulling him along with me. We raced through the open space of the cafeteria and I could hear the squeaks of the sneakers of our chasers on the linoleum floor.

I didn't let go of Heero's hand, not even when he told me to between pants. I climbed the staircase two steps at a time, dragging him along with me.

"Don't the Maxwell-brothers want to play?" One of the guys called after us.

"Where are you taking me?" Heero demanded.

I didn't answer him. "Please don't be locked. Please don't be locked. Please don't be locked," I kept repeating as we approached the door marked 'TEACHER'S LOUNGE. NO ENTRY'. I grabbed the doorknob, twisted it and felt incredible relief when the door swung open. I pushed Heero inside and followed him in. I closed and locked the door just in time. The boys cursed, tried the doorknob in vain and banged against the door.

"Fucking pussies!" They shouted.

I turned around and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of an unknown, mousey teacher dressed in plaid, seated on the ratty old couch, staring at us in shock. "What- What's going on?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Sorry for the intrusion. We'll be out of your way," I said with a grin and reached for Heero's hand again. When he refused to let me grab him by the wrist I urged him along with my hand on his back.

We headed out the back, ending up in a nearly deserted parking lot and I decided on the long way home so we wouldn't risk running into those assholes again.

"But my bike…" Heero meekly objected as he realized we were going in the wrong direction.

"Fuck, Heero. They'll be waiting for us there. You can get your bike back tomorrow." I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off my brow.

"We shouldn't have run away," He concluded. "This won't help. If they don't get us today they'll get us tomorrow, or any other day."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy on them."

Heero challenged: "So your brilliant plan is to just keep running away from them?"

I shrugged.

"And what about getting away from Cameron?" Heero went on with taunting voice. "Any progress on that front?"

I looked back at him over my shoulder and glared at him. "Do you really still think you should just ride it out? Wait for graduation? Do you honestly believe he'll leave you be when you go off to college?"

"I'll be too old. At least now he can still market me as a high-school-boy, but a lot of them have already been complaining that I'm too big."

I felt my stomach invert.

"They don't like that my shoulders are getting broad. They don't like my voice, now that it's deep. They don't like that my penis is bigger now. They don't like my armpit hair or my pubic hair. They don't like the hair on my legs. And shaving doesn't fool them either."

My face contorted. "Please stop…"

"I'm just saying… I'll be too old. Nobody will want to fuck me anymore and then I'll be fine."

I couldn't help but snort at his naiveté. "What about old men who are into frat-boys? Cameron can just as easily find new 'customers' with different preferences to hand you out to as a party-favor."

"I'm too old," Heero simply repeated, possibly in denial – necessary denial.

As we walked side by side, both with our hands tucked into our pockets, I wondered with a grimace: "When did Cameron last…?" I couldn't get myself to say the words, but I knew I had to ask these things. I had to know and I had to understand and I needed Heero to tell me the stories, in the hopes that it would confront him with the awful truth, make him see that he needed to get away. As often as I could stomach it, I had to make these inquiries. I liked to believe it was helping. Heero did open up to me more and more and I could see the hidden signs of a change starting within him.

"When did Cameron last fuck me?" Heero verified, for shock-value.

"Yeah…"

"When I was thirteen."

I nodded. Cameron liked them especially young. Thirteen was already too old for him. "Did he tell you it would be the last time?"

"No, but I had a feeling. It was getting increasingly infrequent, it had been a while since he last had sex with me before that, a couple of months or something."

"How uh-… How often would he rape you when you were still young enough for his taste?" I used the word 'rape' purposefully to hammer it in while he kept avoiding it. I didn't like having to be harsh with him, all I wanted was to wrap my arms around him, have him rest his head on my shoulder and merely hold him, but comfort wasn't what he needed, not yet, he hadn't reached that point yet. First, I had to get him there.

"Sometimes he would have sex with me," He emphasized his choice of words, "as often as every night."

"Please stop saying 'sex'," I begged him through gritted teeth.

"Why? That's what it is."

"Did you want him to?"

He shook his head,

"It was rape," I concluded.

"Whatever," He growled and he wrapped his arms around himself as we continued to walk along.

"You told me before that you tried to run away a couple of times."

"Yes. Twice. When I was much younger," He brushed it off as if trying to escape had been a silly, childish mistake.

"Then you must have known that what he was doing to you was wrong," I pointed out and I studied his features, but his expression was utterly indifferent.

"It doesn't matter, nobody believed me. Cameron convinced everyone that my stories were latent memories from before I was adopted and that I was merely projecting. Everyone thought I was crazy. Tabytha got really mad at me and Cameron would punish me. It was easier to just stand it, than to keep trying something that I knew would fail. Sex is easy. It was the easiest way to survive."

I stopped and waited for him to halt and turn to look at me before I stated poignantly: "Surviving is not the same as living. You deserve to live. You deserve to be happy."

Heero cast his gaze to the ground, his brows were furrowed with confusion. "I don't understand why you're doing this. Why are you trying to help me when it could get you killed?"

I walked up to him and waited for him to look me in the eyes. "If I left you behind, I wouldn't be able to live with myself anyway."

"You're risking your life for someone who isn't worth it."

For the first time I could detect a vulnerability in his voice and it broke my heart. If I thought it would help him, I would have hugged him, or touched his shoulder at least in an effort to comfort him, but I didn't think he'd appreciate being touched. "You're worth it."

"I've been nothing but horrible to you," He pointed out.

I offered him a smile. "I disagree."

His eyebrows twitched, betraying more of his confusion.

I shrugged, knowing it would annoy him that I didn't elaborate. There was no point trying to explain to him that I knew he cared more about me than he let on, it was apparent in the way he had gotten comfortable with me. He accepted my company and coming from him I understood how meaningful that was and I couldn't hope for more. I motioned for us to keep going and we walked home in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Cameron still gleefully dangled an unknown punishment over my head. He was practically giddy at dinner and I felt like everything would soon explode. He used to hate it whenever Heero and I displayed something akin to friendship or comradery, it made him anxious and jealous, but lately it made him smirk and I knew that meant he was planning to drive a wedge between us. He was biding his time until the perfect moment when whatever he had up his sleeve would have the most devastating effect.

Eventually, I was forced to give Heero a heads-up, let him know that Cameron was up to something, and that he shouldn't let it get to him. My warning only confused Heero and made him suspicious, so I told him not to worry about it and then proceeded to beat him at the racing-game we were playing. For a moment, I forgot about my own worries, watching him lean with the movements of the on-screen racing vehicle, biting his bottom lip in concentration and making disapproving sounds when he skidded or took the corners too wide. It was always a treat to see him exchange his seriousness and impassiveness for something so… youthfully innocent. I knew there was a young boy within him, locked away for his own protection, that could blossom and enjoy life when he was allowed to be free.

He shot me a side-way glance mid-game and I smiled at him, unashamed at being caught staring. He smirked back at me – just the tiniest curls of the corners of his lips - and I couldn't figure out why, until I heard an explosion coming from the television and I turned my head just in time to see the replay of me driving my racecar at full-speed into a concrete barrier. "Well shit." And that was how my perfect winning-streak came to an end.

When we returned to school the next day we discovered the group of guys that had been chasing out had taken their frustration out on Heero's bike; the tires were slashed and they had carved 'WHORE' into the blue metallic paint of the frame. At least this act of vandalism had satisfied them and aside from the everyday whispers and distant laughing, we were left in peace.

The school week went by quickly and without a hitch and I was lulled into a false sense of security.

Coming home Friday afternoon, two hours later than Heero, I noticed both cars were missing fro the driveway, which meant both Tabytha and Cameron were away for the evening and that was always a relief. For one evening I wouldn't have to worry about Cameron, or worry that I was going to leap over the dining room table and strangle Tabytha for her inexcusable inaction and preoccupation with all the things that matter least in life.

I went upstairs and found the bedroom empty and the door to the bathroom shut. I knew instantly what was going on behind that closed door and it never got any easier. It never left me feeling any less queasy, or less powerless. But with determination I stormed into the bathroom. Heero had known better than to lock the door, I'd just make him open it up for me or kick it in otherwise.

As feared, he sat in his usual spot on the bathroom floor, leaning back against the bathtub. He looked so small whenever I saw him like that. His pants were caught around his ankles. Covered-up by only his shirt and underwear he let blood trickle from a fresh cut in his left thigh. His reaction to my interruption – a grimace and a groan – was delayed. He had been focused on his task, enthralled by the sight of his own blood, entranced by the pain. More than anything he was irked by my presence.

"Go away…" He said, although he must have been aware that he was wasting breath. I wasn't going anywhere.

I took a seat on the cold, tiled floor, pulling up my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs. I studied the puddle of blood, assured only by remembering that I had seen him bleed more in the past and he had been fine.

But the thing that disconcerted me was that it had been weeks since I had last witnessed him cutting himself and I knew something must have set him off to drive him to seek that release again. "What happened?"

Heero scoffed. Absentmindedly he dragged his finger through the trail of blood, leaving a long, red smear across his pale thigh. He glanced up at me and scolded: "Stop looking at me."

"If you insist on doing something stupid like this, you'll just have to deal with me watching over you, making sure you don't do any serious harm."

He chuckled bitterly. "Right. Because that would just be wasteful."

I frowned at him. I knew he was implying something, something dark, but I didn't know what. "Did Cameron say something to you?"

"It doesn't matter, Duo…"

"What did he say?" I demanded.

Heero ignored my question and reached for the tissues. He held a bundle of them against the wound and removed it periodically to check if the cut was still bleeding. When the bleeding had stopped he wiped away the red smear on his leg and bandaged-up the cut. Gruffly he told me to leave him alone so he could change into clean clothes.

Trusting that his ritual was over, I got up to my feet and allowed him privacy to get changed, but I wasn't about to stop questioning him. I knew Cameron must have done or said something to manipulate him against me. I had to figure out what damage had been done so I could quickly make it right again.

I sat on the foot of the bed – I was allowed to do that nowadays – and I waited for him to finish in the bathroom. Nervously I wrung my hands together and wiped my sweaty palms on my black jeans. I jerked my head up and stared when Heero emerged from the bathroom.

He stood on unsteady legs, clad in the tight jeans we had purchased for him during the weekend of the wedding, paired with the white shirt that looked so good on him..

He leaned heavily against the doorpost for a moment, struck with light-headedness. I resisted the urge to jump up and support him on his way across the room. His head lolled to the side and he laughed breathily at himself.

I had never seen him act like that and it had me worried.

"You like these clothes on me, right?" He wondered and he looked down his own body. "You picked them out yourself."

I didn't know what to say. Dumbly, I replied: "They're nice clothes." Obviously it would have been inappropriate for me to tell him that he looked amazing; that his legs seemed even longer in those jeans and his waist even smaller in that fitted shirt. I was already ashamed that I even noticed these things.

He nodded. "I knew you'd like it."

"What is going on?"

He paused halfway through the room. "Whatever you want."

The practiced words caused my entire body to go cold and a shiver ripped through me violently. "Heero-…"

He stalked towards me, his expression indifferent and unreadable, but the exaggerated sway of his hips spoke volumes. He was putting on a show for my benefit. "Cameron told me you want to have sex with me."

My eyes widened. "What?!" I jumped up from the bed in utter shock. I stretched out my arms in front of me to keep Heero at a distance.

"Cameron told me about the day he showed you the videos. He said that you are in love with me, and that you want to have sex with me."

"Heero-"

He continued: "That's why you've been trying to get me away from here, right? Because you want me all to yourself?"

"No! No!"

Heero stopped, only two feet removed from me, with his brows furrowed into a deep, confused frown. Before, he had seemed almost relieved to have 'discovered' the 'real' reason why I wanted to help him, it made more sense to him that I wanted to save him for my own, perverted interests, because that was all he ever known and all he was able to understand and believe without question.

"Heero, please. I told you he would try to do something to drive a wedge between us. He's just trying to stir up trouble, to break the trust between us. Don't listen to him," I urged. I maneuvered around the bed to create more distance between us.

"So you don't like me?"

I noted the vulnerable quality in his voice and the undertone of disappointment. "Heero, of course I like you. I told you I care about you. I'm not trying to get you away from here to-… To do anything to you. I want to get you out of here so you will be free to be whoever you want to be and be with whoever you want to be. No one, least of all me, is going to force you to…" I couldn't even say it. "Cameron is trying to poison you against me, so you won't come with me, so you'll think I'm just like him. But I'm not!" I asserted and I was desperate for him to believe that, because how else could I?

Meekly, he wondered: "Is it because I'm too old for you?"

My heart broke. "No, Heero, please listen to me. I'm not like him!" I needed him to believe that, because how else could I? "I think you are beautiful and I care so much about you, but I don't want you the way he wanted you. And that's not because you're too old! You're perfect…" I breathed. "Jesus, if you could stand to look at yourself in the mirror and see what I see, maybe you'd understand that anyone would be lucky to have you." I stared at him, shrinking into himself, my bottom lip quivered with emotion. "I don't want you to worry about people not wanting you because you have a deep voice and armpit hair."

"How could anybody ever want me, Duo?" He challenged. "Not when they know what I am."

"That's not true…"

"You know and you don't want me!" He shot back bitterly.

"I do want you!" I was as shocked by my own admission as Heero was. I shouldn't have said that, it was wrong for me to cherish anything other than brotherly feelings for him. I didn't want to be a monster, like my father, but I couldn't deny that when I looked at Heero, I didn't look at him in the way a young man is supposed to look at his brother. I was attracted to him, although that made me feel so incredibly dirty that I could never imagine acting on these feelings. But I didn't want to tell him that either. I didn't want him to mistakenly think that he made me feel dirty because he was used or tainted. "Heero, I beg you, trust me. Once you are free from Cameron you will start to see what an amazing person you are and that people do want you, and not just for sex either! You are going to meet a girl that will fall head-over-heels in love with you and she won't love you any less when she knows what you have been through. She will support you and she will help you forget." With a snicker I added: "And she will get jealous from time to time because she'll know that everyone else also sees just how attractive you are."

"A girl?" He wondered and he looked off to the side, all the more confused.

I smiled gently. "What has been done to you doesn't make you gay. Nothing Cameron has put you through defines you. You can have a normal life."

"Is there something wrong with me if I don't like girls?"

I blinked at him. "N-No. Of course not." I was a little baffled by the turn of events. "Boys or girls, it doesn't matter. You can like whoever you want to like. That's my point. That's what I want for you."

He didn't look any less confused, or any less uncomfortable.

"Do you-" I paused, unsure if I should ask him this, but I only meant to understand him better so I could reassure and comfort him better. "Do you think you might like boys?"

For the first time since I've known him, Heero blushed and it was endearing. But the innocent moment was disturbed when he asked: "That would be wrong, wouldn't it? Because that would mean that I liked it all along."

I took a step towards him. "It doesn't. If a straight woman gets raped, no one assumes that she liked it because she enjoys sex with men, just like no one expects her to become a lesbian afterwards."

"But, I did like it," He pointed out and elaborated coldly: "You saw the videos. I get an erection. I can even ejaculate."

I understood his turmoil and tried to persuade him: "That is just your body reacting to stimulus. It doesn't mean that you wanted them to touch you."

He nodded, although he didn't look convinced.

"Do you think you might like boys only because you could get hard and orgasm with these men?"

"No." He looked at me all of a sudden, after avoiding eye-contact for a long time during the conversation.

"Is there a boy you like?"

"Maybe." He shrugged.

I didn't press on. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know if he might like me and I didn't want to know if he might like someone else. It didn't matter anyway.

"You're gay, right?"

His blunt question startled me. There was no point in denying it, even though hearing me say it might make him uncomfortable or distrusting, the truth was apparent in the conversation we had just had and he deserved full disclosure anyway. "Yes. I'm gay."

"And you're attracted to me?"

"I think you are attractive," I amended. I wasn't sure if there was a significant difference between the two, but I preferred to think that my phrasing implied that I could restrain myself from ever acting on those feelings and it was important to me for him to know that. "Does that make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No."

"I want you to know that I would never touch you without your permission. I would never force myself on you and I would definitely never have Cameron set something up between us."

"I know. I was curious."

"Curious?"

"Cameron didn't tell me to have sex with you. He just said you wanted it and I was curious if it would be different with you."

"You wanted it?" I blurted insensitively.

"I was curious," He repeated and continued clinically: "It was interesting to find out you might really like me."

"I do really like you," I admitted, "But I don't want to have sex with you." As handsome as he was, this was the truth. Not because what he had done in his past repulsed me, because it didn't, not anymore, not now that I understood. Sheepishly, I added, to lighten the atmosphere: "Besides, I'm not even sure if I am ready for sex."

"You are a virgin?"

I nodded.

"Aren't you curious?"

"I used to be. But lately, the idea of sex scares me."

"Why?"

I shrugged and dug my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans. I had no right to keep secrets from him, not when I knew such intimate things about him. He deserved to know my dark secrets too, even at the risk of scaring him. "I'm afraid I'll unleash something and end up like my father."

"I don't think you will ever be anything like Cameron."

I smiled at him, grateful for his words. "Thank you, but, that is something I have to discover for myself before I'll truly believe it."

Heero nodded.

"Heero, promise me that next time Cameron tells you something, don't do that-" I gestured at the bathroom, referencing his self-harm ritual, "Just talk to me."

"Fine," He replied irritably, slipping back into his usual, defensive demeanor. He went back into the bathroom and changed into his regular, ill-fitting clothes and announced he had a lot of homework to do.

I chuckled at the sudden change, but I welcomed it. We had opened up enough for one day and it was nice to be able to go back to that place of pretend. We did our homework alongside each other and after having pizza for dinner – although I couldn't stomach a single bite no matter how hard I tried - we played another video game.

Still, that night, my thoughts started to wander and contemplate what Cameron had tried to achieve. I had a feeling this was just the start, just a pre-game to mess with us. He had subtly tried to engineer a situation in which Heero and I would end up having sex with each other, knowing that if Heero and I took that step it would break us both and make us resentful and distrusting of each other. But the plan had failed, as he could have expected. It wasn't like him to just 'clear the field' and 'see what happens', he was a man who liked to be in control. He wouldn't let this failure rest. Next time, I surmised, he would assume control and he would make sure we would end up making that mistake. He was going to force us to have sex with each other. I didn't exactly know how I came to that conclusion with such certainty, but it would be a darkly clever ploy to get Heero to resent me and for me to fear Cameron all the more, not to mention the self-doubt and self-hatred it would cause me.

I sat up in bed – on that mattress on the floor that I called a bed – and my eyes searched for his shape under the sheets. All I could see in the dark were faded shapes of blue; faint, cold moonlight that hit the folds of the sheets just right. His breathing was steady and a little louder than when he was awake, though not quite snore. His breaths came out in sighs.

He trusts me, I knew. Cameron was going to destroy that.

"Heero?"

The breathing pattern changed, but there was no reply. Then the blue shapes on the bed started to move and distort and I saw two sparkles that I knew where his eyes catching the moonlight as he sat up to gaze at me. "What is it?"

"Cameron is going to make us sleep together," I blurted

There was no movement. No sound. For too long of a moment, I didn't even hear him breathe.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Of course, I'm not deaf."

I pressed on: "Well then, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes, you used 'sleep together' as a euphemism for 'fuck'."

I nearly laughed at the dry retort, but nothing about this situation was really amusing. Especially the fact that he didn't argue my statement and quietly agreed with my conclusion was unpleasant. I waited, even though I knew he wouldn't jump out of bed and start packing a bag so we could leave tonight.

As if he read my mind, he supplied matter-of-factly: "We can't run, Duo."

"We-"

"I won't run," He amended and his words were firm and resolute. "It will never end if we run."

He was right. Fuck, I knew he was right. We would have to live our entire lives under the radar, off the grid, living hand-to-mouth. I had promised him better than that. If we went to Ruby, we would only endanger her. Perhaps worst of all, Cameron would simply focus his attention on someone new, some other, innocent boy. There was no telling how many lives he had ruined and how many more he would continue to ruin, beyond our own, if we didn't stop him.

But we couldn't stay here. We mustn't let him turn us against each other and break us beyond repair. I had to save Heero while there was still something left to save. I didn't want to partake in killing that last part of him, squashing that last remaining seed that could still grow beautifully if attended with the love and care he needed and deserved. Not to mention, I didn't know if I could handle it. To be forced to do that, to enact my worst nightmares… to become like my father.

Before I could sort through my thoughts and voice my concerns or ask for his advice, he said: "We have to do it."

"What?" I hissed at him.

"We are never going to get into that safe to retrieve the evidence we need."

Another truth that was hard to swallow. But the bitter taste made it sickening, but not any less true.

"If we can't get to that evidence, then we must find new proof. Proof he can't hide and has no control over."

His cool and detached tone frightened me. I wished I could see his face, see some reflections of my own fears and worries, to not feel alone in this, but all I had was his cold, steady voice.

"He will force us to have sex," He said, "And we will secretly record it. We can hide a camera in the room. That will be enough to warrant a search of the house and then the other videos will be found. He can't talk his way out of something like that."

"But… we would have to…"

"It's just sex, Duo."

"It's not!" I exclaimed. I jumped up and walked blindly across the room to flick on the lights.

Heero was sitting in the center of his bed, staring at me. His face was unreadable.

"Heero…" I approached the bed and sat down on the edge.

My brother-in-law pulled his knees up to his chest and held the sheet tightly in his fists, but his eyes remained steadfast.

"How can you say that we can just have sex when you never even like it when I touch you in any way?" I questioned, trying to make him understand the seriousness of what he was proposing. "When I want to hug you, or put my hand on your shoulder?"

"That is different. Sex is easy. I know how to have sex."

"But… I don't…" I looked at him vulnerably.

"It will feel good. There is no pain involved for the dominant partner."

I flinched at his words. "That's not what I meant…" I felt silly for saying this to a boy who has been forced to endure so much, but I couldn't help myself: "It will be my first time. I always wanted that to be a special thing."

He nodded. His gaze hardened but he seemed to shrink into himself further. "It wouldn't be special with someone like me."

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" I reached out but stopped myself before my hand could touch his knee. "It wouldn't be special with Cameron there… watching and directing." I shuddered at the thought.

"We can't run," He reiterated.

"No. We can't."

"If you really believe he won't leave me alone, even when I go to college, this is the only way." His eyes challenged me.

"I want to save you," I said meekly, plucking at a fold in the sheets. "I don't know if you will be saved this way…"

"I can handle one more. The question is: can you handle this one?"

My heart thundered. I would sacrifice anything to save him. If what he said was true, that he could handle it, that he could survive one more time, than I had to trust him and I had to take that risk. I had to get him out of here because the only reason for his suffering was the fact that my mom took me away all those years ago. Maybe I wouldn't be able to live with myself afterwards, but this wasn't about me. As hard as my life on the run had been with my mother, I had known joy and contentment and security. Heero had never experienced that, it was his turn to get to know happiness, with or without me.

I nodded in agreement. Amazed and shocked by my own response. "Promise me you'll tell me if you change your mind? You are in control. It's your decision."

He clenched his jaw and quietly regarded me for an uncomfortable stretch of time, until finally he nodded.

"And I promise you, I won't hurt you. I'll be careful."

"You'll be as careful as he allows you to be."

I swallowed. I shook my head, already starting to regret this entire plan. "I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you."

"You will try not to," Heero said calmly. "And that is why I'd rather do it one more time with you than with Cameron or his friends."

Our gazes locked. My stomach inverted. I felt like throwing up, but I hadn't been able to eat anything all day anyway.

"It's just sex, Duo," He repeated, attempting a reassuring tone, as he must have noticed my face turning a pale shade of green.

No, it wasn't. I was going to rape my brother…


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Violence and sexual exploitation of minors.
> 
> WARNING: This chapter is RAW/hot-off-the-press/unbeta'd/pre-proofread. I'm sorry! I need a break from this story, it's not exactly fun, like playing with kittens or anything. I knew I shouldn't have said anything on my profile page about when I'll update, setting a deadline has never worked out for me… -.-

**Brothers**

**Chapter sixteen**

With the money I had saved up – Tabytha always readily gave me cash to buy school supplies and clothes and never asked to have the change back – I purchased a small camera at a store that specialized in monitoring and security equipment for wannabe spies; scorned housewives and distrustful men. The camera came with a long chord to directly connect it to Heero's laptop. We hid the small device on a bookshelf, above his desk and threaded the chord to the window where it followed the window frame down, obscured by the curtain. Books and papers hid the remaining chord and where it connected with the laptop from sight.

The camera was always recording, because we never knew when it was going to happen. There would be no warning. Every morning, when nothing had happened, we deleted the useless file and started a new recording to last the next 24 hours. It was uneasy to have the camera trained on us the entire day, especially since it was a constant reminder of what was about to happen.

At night, the camera observed me tossing and turning on my small mattress at the foot of Heero's bed. I couldn't sleep. Even the smallest sound set my hairs on end, elevated my heartrate and had my breath catching in my throat. The wind that made a branch scratch the outer wall, Heero's bed creaking as he shifted in his undisturbed sleep and a raccoon knocking over a garbage can down the street. It didn't matter what the sound was, I shot upright every time and fixed my gaze on the door, praying: not yet. Not now. Not ever.

I called Ruby. I didn't tell her about our plan, all I said was that we might have an opportunity to escape soon, and I asked for reassurance if it was okay for us to come to her when the time came. She made me memorize her address and cellphone number and made me promise to call if anything or anyone stood in the way of reaching her. She begged me to tell her where we were, so she could help, but whatever help she could offer us would not be enough. If it came down to our word against Cameron's, we wouldn't stand a chance. The charismatic asshole had no trouble charming people into believing him. He was such an upstanding citizen and I was just a disgruntled youth, Heero was a disturbed, traumatized boy and Ruby was the friend of his ex-wife who held a grudge.

I thought of my mom a lot and looked at our pictures. I could only hope that she would agree that running was simply not a valid option at this point. I would always be grateful that she turned her entire life upside down to save me from the monster that was my father, but in the end, I was the only one she could save and that was not enough. Someone took my place. Heero took my place. Even if I could convince Heero to run away with me – or knock him unconscious and sneak him out of the house – the best possible outcome would be that we could save ourselves; that Cameron would give up on looking for us and that we could disappear. If successful, if that was even possible, we would only be saving ourselves. It would be selfish. There would always be another boy. A new victim.

We had to stop him. I believed that was why things had worked out the way they did, why I had ended up back in his household. My mother couldn't stop him, but she had saved me so I could. It was my responsibility.

Heero emerged from the bathroom after taking a shower and sat down next to me on the floor. I had the precious photo-album in my lap and thumbed the corner of an old picture.

"She was beautiful," He concluded, studying the image of my mother's smiling face.

I smiled and stroked my finger along her features.

"You look nothing like her."

I let out a hearty laugh that startled my brother in law. "So I'm ugly, huh?"

He scrunched up his face.

"Never mind."

"Did she know?"

I blinked at him. "Know what?"

"That you're gay."

I paused and looked back at the picture. My heart stuttered in my chest. "She did."

"And she was okay with it?"

"I guess so."

"Weren't you really close?"

"We were. And it never seemed like she took issue with it but…" I shrugged and tried to pretend that I didn't feel a sharp pain in my chest. "We never really talked about it. With the way our life was, I never got around to telling her about what I felt and I wasn't really thinking about boys anyway. Before she got sick, I was too much of a kid, my sexuality didn't really mean anything. After she got sick… well, I couldn't think about anything but her sickness. I wanted it make her happy, wanted to make her laugh, so I mostly just told a lot of jokes. We both tried to compensate for the seriousness of her illness, so we never took anything else seriously at that point. Everything was a joke to us. We had to laugh, because the only other option was crying and we didn't want to do that."

Heero nodded. His eyes were glazed over, he seemed lost in thought, making me wonder if he had even been listening to me.

"I guess I still do that," I continued. "I make light of stuff. I don't know how else to handle… life." I closed the photo-album and slid it under Heero's bed and then adjusted my position so I could face him. "How do you handle it?"

He shrugged. "I just don't think about. I focus on other stuff."

"Like science, and engineering?"

"Yeah."

"So that's why you're so smart and so good at school. You study so you don't have to think about anything else. That seems like a better approach then mine," I chuckled. "At least you're learning something useful."

"I think we're both coping the best way we can," He said quietly.

I smiled at him, at his unexpected kindness.

"Can we trust this Ruby person?"

I got the impression that question was the only reason why he had started up the conversation. "Yes, we can trust her. She was a friend of my mom, she was a volunteer at a shelter who helped us get away back then, set us up at a halfway house, got us cash to get started. She met up with us once in a while, whenever she could, and always got us out of trouble." I smiled at him reassuringly. "You'll like her. And she'll like you."

"There aren't any good universities in Florida," He said dryly.

"You can go to school wherever you want." I decided not to share with him that I suspected that once we were way from Cameron, he would probably fall apart and his plans to graduate and attend university would be postponed to give him time to heal. If I had told him that, I didn't think he would have gone through with the plan. Until he was ready, we could live with Ruby and after, if he would have me, I would accompany him anywhere he wanted to go. But I would do anything to keep him safe and happy and if that meant getting as far away from him as possible, I would do that too.

A silence settled between us. I recognized there was more he wanted to say or ask, but he wasn't ready yet, so I waited. I sat calmly and picked at the fibers of the beige carpet, between my legs. I shifted my weight to the left, just enough so I my shoulder would lean against his.

He pretended not to notice, but he tensed and then later relaxed. "You haven't been sleeping well."

"You noticed? Did I keep you up?"

"No. I saw on the footage."

I grinned at him and playfully pushed against his bent knee, so it toppled over to his other leg. He allowed these small touches lately, but only because he was forcing himself to stand it. In preparation of what was to come. "The camera isn't so you can spy on me," I teased light-heartedly.

"I wasn't spying," He emphasized. "I happened to notice, that is all."

"Don't worry about me. I'll sleep better once we get out of this place." I hoped that would be true.

"You really don't want to have sex with me?" My brother asked, while purposefully looking the other way.

I took a deep breath at the loaded question. "I-…" I rubbed the back of my neck, stalling as I puzzled together an answer that was as much truth as it could be without frightening him. "Part of me does want to have sex with you. But all of me doesn't want to rape you." I studied his features for a reaction but he only turned his head further away.

"Part of you?"

"The part that is still a teenager, with hormones… and eyes, which see how beautiful you are. The part that is curious. The part that somehow doesn't know about everything else that is going on. But that part of me is stupid." I scrunched up my face, I didn't want him to misinterpret that. "Sex isn't something you should do because only a part of you wants it. The two people involved should both want it wholly. Or else it wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be special."

Heero nodded and turned to face me again. After hesitating and struggling to find the words, he wondered: "What would it be like? If it was special?"

I felt my face get heated at his question. "I- I don't know. I've never done it."

"But you've thought about doing it, right?" He pressed on and an analytical curiosity appeared on his features. "What would you do? How would it go?"

A nervous laugh escaped me.

"I'm sorry." He pulled his knees up and hugged them to his chest. He averted his eyes again.

We were both unsure what he was apologizing for. Then I steeled my nerves and started: "For starters, we wouldn't be brothers. Not even on paper." I nudged him playfully. Make light of it, I thought to myself, it was the only way I knew how to cope. "You'd just be my classmate, or my lab partner. I would… I would find excuses to touch you; your hand, your arm, your shoulder, your neck, you hair…" I trailed off and for a moment lost my train of thought as I stared at him, while he ignored my gaze. "I'd ask you out and you would probably say 'no' because you'd just think I'm an idiot." I smiled when Heero snorted. "But I'd persevere. Ask my mom for advice – I mean, if I'm allowed to fantasize, I'm allowed to pretend she would still live in this ideal world, right?"

He didn't answer.

"She'd say something uplifting but untrue that all mothers have to tell their kids. 'He would be lucky to have you. You can do better than him'. I'd probably be angry at her for saying that because you mean the world to me. But when I would finally get to introduce you to her, she would simply adore you. After we would have been dating for a while, I'd arrange something special, which would probably end up being really cheesy," I chuckled at myself, losing myself to the whimsical, hopeful illusion. "But we would both be ready and it wouldn't matter where it happened, or if it was as perfect as I had planned." I wrung my hands together, suddenly much more aware of how close he was to me and that our shoulders were still touching. "I'd undress you… probably ask you at every button if you're sure…"

He turned his head slightly more my way and seemed to be looking at my hands.

I took in the sight of his face; the smooth, golden skin that reflected the light in perfect planes, his sharp cheekbones, his perfectly straight nose, the curve of his upper lip. "I'd kiss you everywhere," I breathed. Why was I saying these things? Why wasn't he stopping me? "I'd be gentle. I'd cherish you. I wouldn't know what to do and maybe you wouldn't either…" I felt a painful stab in my heart and knew he did too. "It wouldn't last very long," I snickered breathily. "But everything would feel right anyway and even our mistakes would be perfect because I would get to hear you laugh."

His throat worked as he swallowed. He lowered his gaze to the carpet.

"I have an erection," I said dumbly. With the way he was sitting, I couldn't tell if he was in the same predicament as I was, but I felt like I had to be honest with him, even bluntly so.

Heero didn't respond to my admission and I supposed that was a good thing, because he didn't judge me or fear me. "I'm sorry it won't be like that," He said.

I allowed myself a moment of self-pity, but only a moment.

"Do you want to take care of that?"

I looked up and felt my cheeks flush red hot when I caught him pointedly staring at my crotch. "Uhh… No. It'll… solve itself." I really couldn't imagine feeling good about masturbating in our given situation. I felt betrayed by my own body. I understood I had physical needs, especially at this age, but to think of Heero in that regard was beyond inappropriate. It worried me. I couldn't trust my own body.

When he merely nodded and looked away with his eyebrows pinched together I realized he might not have been offering me privacy to take care of it myself but had instead suggested something else. I knew I would feel even worse taking him up on that offer – if it was even offered – so I was glad I missed it and the moment was gone before I could get too awkward about it and maybe say something I would have instantly regretted.

We sat together in silence and as expected, my problem resolved itself rather easily.

"Do you want to play?"

Wide-eyed I turned to face him and relief washed over me when I noticed him holding one of the game controllers out to me. My face split into a smile. "Yeah, I wanna play. I'm going to kick your ass."

Heero snorted. He crawled towards the television set to switch on the TV and the game computer and I deliberately looked away so my gaze couldn't drift towards said ass. There was only so much a teenager like myself could do to keep his hormones in check.

We spent the rest of the day playing our favorite first-person-shooter game. We battled each other the first few rounds and when we ended up with an equal amount of wins and losses, we decided to team-up to make our way through the levels of the game. We paused mid-game for dinner and went right back on our killing-spree as soon as we came back upstairs. It wasn't until it was nearly midnight and Heero decided that we had to go to bed, that I realized we hadn't completed our homework assignment for the next day. It was a minor assignment, the kind the teacher wouldn't even check on, but I was certain it was a first for a Heero to skip it. I didn't comment on it. I didn't want to make a big deal about it, but when he turned off the lights once we were both tucked in our beds and he gruffly wished me goodnight, I smiled. I was happy, relieved and even proud that today, I had been enough for him to distract him from his dark thoughts; he didn't need to pour over textbooks to occupy his mind.

Nothing happened again that night, but still, I didn't get any sleep.

We deleted the twenty-four hours of footage and started anew.

At school at least we were away from Cameron and the sickening atmosphere that clung to that house, but we still had the bullies to deal with. Following the last incident, they had slashed the tires of Heero's bike and scratched 'WHORE', 'SLUT', 'FAGGOT' and more into the blue frame. They didn't get the reaction they had hoped for when they had observed us retrieving Heero's bike from the stands. Because it was exactly as we had expected, we didn't pay any attention to it and simply walked home together. It was only a matter of time until they would try something again, that much I knew.

A few days later, they carved the same words into the door of Heero's locker, and mine too. When the principal called us to his office and asked us if we knew who had done it, we had both shaken our heads. The principal had notified Cameron of the incident, but our father only appeared amused over dinner that evening.

The bullies were disappointed that they couldn't get a rise out of us, no matter what they called us – shouting it across the hallway, our whispering it amongst themselves in class.

I was too worried about when Cameron would make his move, to be concerned about the negligible threat that the bullies posed.

Thursday night our fate was sealed.

It was a 'family' dinner like any other; pretentious, nerve-wracking and too long. But Cameron had a special surprise.

"What's this?" Tabytha wondered innocently when Cameron excused himself between the main course and dessert and returned with a small, black box, tied with pink ribbons and placed that in front of her. She immediately forgot about her miniscule slice of chocolate cake.

Cameron seated himself with a grin that was altogether too dark. "It's a present, for my beautiful wife," He doted on her, but he looked at Heero and I. "Open it."

At his encouragement, she pulled on one end of the ribbon and the bow fell apart; the silk cascaded to either side of the box and she wasted little time lifting the lid. The excitement fell from her face initially. Given the size and shape of the box, she had been expecting jewelry, but instead the box only contained a card. She adjusted her features into a fake grin. "I wonder what this is for…"

Cameron was wringing his hands together.

She opened the card and concluded, her interest piquing: "A gift card for 'Campo Marzio'." She blinked at him. "Campo Marzio?"

"It's a world-renowned perfume store. They sell the most exclusive fragrances. A special, sweet scent for a special, sweet woman."

I stared at my chocolate cake, thinking to myself: Well, damn, there goes my appetite. And it was looking like heaving before.

"Honey," She cooed, still not very impressed though, but she hid it reasonably well.

With a sly smirk Cameron continued: "Oh and you'll need these," He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and produced a slim envelope. "Three plane tickets for you and two of your friends."

She perked up. "First class?"

"Of course."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, the Campo Marzio store is in Rome…"

Tabytha squealed and gestured excitedly with her hands. "Oh, honey, thank you!" Instead of getting up to thank him she merely leaned in to give him a kiss and as she sat back she took the envelope with the plane tickets from him.

Meanwhile, I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Heero also seemed to be mourning the loss of his appetite for his dessert.

She glanced at the tickets and squealed again. "These tickets are for tomorrow!"

"Surprise."

Tabytha jumped up from her seat. "I have to pack right away! And call Brigida and Livia! Or maybe I should invite Prue… Or Candy?" She walked out of the dining room contemplating her options. Her high heels made stomping sounds on the steps of the stairs as she rushed up to the master bedroom.

I felt like I could vomit but my heart, stuck high up in my throat would stop the bile. I shot a look across the table. My brother looked pale, but resigned.

"It's going to be a boys-only-weekend," Cameron announced and he cleared the table of our untouched desserts. "We'll have to think of something fun to do."

He had found a clever way to get rid of Tabytha, although honestly, I didn't think he would bother. Heero's bedroom provided more than enough privacy, even with Tabytha still in the house, as years of his abuse had demonstrated. It was all part of his mind game, I suspected, to let us know what was coming. To make us sick with dread. I hated that it worked, that he had the satisfaction of seeing my queasy face as I just sat there at the dining room table, completely useless and powerless. I had already known it was inevitable, but to be slapped across the face with the imminence of being forced to rape my friend, my own brother, was still a shock somehow.

Through nudges and pulls Heero managed to get me out of my seat and up to his room – our room now, technically. He didn't say anything, he maneuvered me to sit in one of the desk chairs, then he stood by idly. My apathetic state confused him. As I slowly got out of it, I became aware of his finger nervously twitching against his thigh and the way he was staring at me.

When he recognized I was coming back around, he admitted sheepishly: "I want to cut myself."

I looked at his hand, resting against his thigh. With the nail of his index finger he scratched the fabric of his pants, picking at old scars through the fabric.

"But I promised I would talk to you first before I would cut."

I nodded dumbly, but had nothing else to offer.

He stood there, his expression becoming increasingly confused. "If you are not going to talk me out of it, I'm not going to wait for your permission."

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. My heart fell when he pivoted on his heels and stalked into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, but didn't lock it. I cast my gaze down to my limp hands in my lap. I was so pathetic. Why couldn't I do this? Why couldn't I help this? Why was the feeling that we were making a mistake so powerful and undeniable? Why couldn't I think of another way?

The sound of Heero rummaging through his toiletry bag for the necessary supplies filtered through the closed door. Even if I couldn't stop him, I shouldn't let him be alone. My hands balled into fists and after another second I got up and joined him in the bathroom.

He didn't acknowledge my presence. He was in his usual spot on the floor, leaning against the side of the bathtub. His pants were around his ankles, he hadn't bothered to take off his shoes.

I sat on the closed lid of the toilet, ignoring the white, opaque mirror above the sink in front of me. When he made the first cut, I couldn't look directly at it. I focused on his face instead. His features scrunched up in pain at first, but that expression didn't last. It all melted away and he completely relaxed. He took a deep breath and released it with a tremble.

"Would you like to try it?" He didn't sound like himself when he offered me a fresh razor, still in the packaging.

I swallowed and tried to talk, but couldn't get my throat or my mouth to work. I shook my head.

"You'll feel better."

That's exactly what I was afraid of. I didn't want to become addicted to it, like he seemed to be. I didn't want to need to do that.

"He might give us drugs beforehand. That'll feel better too." He redirected his focus to make his second incision.

"We should discuss how to… proceed… after…" Finding words was a struggle. My gaze was drawn by the trickle of blood along his creamy skin. I looked at the puddle of blood on the floor between his legs. I was struck by the realization that I would be between his thighs soon. That didn't feel right. That was such an invasion. I didn't even feel like I should be looking there, let alone being there, on top of him, between his legs. I looked away and faced the mirror and I was relieved I couldn't see my own reflection.

"I don't want to talk about it right now." His voice softened as he spoke. His shoulders relaxed. He lost his grip on the razor and fell into the red pool on the white tiles.

Ignoring his statement, I continued: "I think we should pack some things beforehand. Get some stuff ready. Like clothes and…" I made vague gestures. "I don't know when it'll happen, but we probably can't leave right away. Maybe we should leave for nightfall, when he's asleep. We can take Tabytha's car… We shouldn't go to the local police station, just in case they won't take us seriously and call Cameron to come get us. We should drive across the state-line. Just to be sure. I think. The evidence can't end up in the hands of someone he has wrapped around his little finger. That could be dangerous." I bit my lip. Would it really be so easy to escape? What if he expected us to bolt after the fact and had thought of a way of stopping us? What if he won't go to sleep that night and instead will wait for us to make a move, to catch us in the act? I remembered the handgun I had seen in the safe. If he had to stop us from leaving, to protect himself, he would take every measure.

Fear gripped at me. I felt the color draining from my face. There were so many things that could go wrong.

"You should have left when you had the chance."

I blinked and twisted my neck to face him. He looked so miserable, sitting there. As his face paled, dark circles appeared under his eyes and the strength and dignity with which he carried himself deflated and left him appearing as a sickly, emaciated boy. I steeled my nerves and knelt down on the tiled floor before him. I regarded him sternly. "Leaving without you was never an option."

"You could have saved yourself." He ignored eye contact and instead started drawing into the pool of his own blood with his index finger.

"That's just it. I couldn't have saved myself by leaving sooner, without you. As long as you would still be here, so would be a part of me."

"Which part?"

"The part I like best." I offered a sad smile. "The part of me that isn't a despicable thing like him." The scary fact was that to prove to myself that I wasn't like my father, that I wasn't a monster, I had to do something that would bring me right to that edge and I feared losing my balance and falling into the exact abyss that perhaps every path in my life would lead to, paved by genetics.

"There are a lot of parts to you…" He mumbled and his eyes glazed over with a tired confusion.

"Yes, I guess there are."

"It's very confusing."

"You'll figure it out." I resisted the urge to ruffle his hair, even though my hand ached for it and I knew he would probably let me in his current, relaxed state. "You are a genius after all." I sat myself back on the toilet seat and waited for the ritual to be over. I even helped him clean up after himself and kept my hands within reach of him when he walked into the bedroom and to his chair, ready to support him should he get lightheaded. While he sat in the desk chair and watched me with unreadable eyes, I prepared some things. If we did succeed in our escape, there was no knowing when we would be able to go to Ruby, or even get a change of clothes. I felt like we had to be prepared. I grabbed some sweaters, pants and even underwear from his closet and put them in a plastic bag as opposed to the travel bag under his bed, just in case Cameron would come snooping and find it. I stuffed the bag into the back of the closet and readied some things for myself as well. The most important thing for me was the photo album. It was heavy and cumbersome, but it had to come with. It was all I had left of my mother.

The next morning, as Heero and I were seated at the kitchen table poking at our breakfast, Tabytha was running around the household in a frantic state, packing some things last minute. Cameron had already left for work.

"Did I burn the waffles, boys?" Tabytha asked, noting we hadn't taken a single bite.

"We're not hungry." I glared at her and she immediately averted her eyes. She knew as well as we did why Cameron had gone out of his way to get rid of her this weekend, but she didn't dare to say anything. I didn't comment on it either, at that point I was afraid she might actually give Cameron a heads up, to protect her own, comfortable life-style. If we managed to get Cameron convicted, her life would fall apart, but I could feel no sympathy for her, even though she might be just another brainwashed victim, like Heero. At least Heero had tried to escape when he was younger, before he resigned to his horrible fate. Tabytha had never attempted to help him and had never defended him against her sick husband, she had only ever quietly stepped aside and looked the other way.

"I'll be back Monday morning," She announced, as if we cared.

Her friend arrived to pick her up and Tabytha wouldn't let her come into the house, instead she insisted that they should go right away. She was probably afraid of her friends noticing the gloomy state in which we were left by Tabytha and she might ask difficult questions.

I looked out the kitchen window and watched the two women load Tabytha's two suitcases into the back of the friend's silver Mercedes, tip-toeing on those ridiculous shoes. When they drove off, my gaze shifted to the SUV in the driveway. "We have Tabytha's car," I pointed out.

My brother was pretending to read the newspaper.

"We could leave. This is our last chance."

"We could leave," He agreed flatly, never looking up from the newspaper. "But we would be back here before the weekend is over."

I bit my lips and stared at the parked car. I wished I could say that he was wrong, I wished I could say that and believe it.

"Let's go. Or else we'll be late." He rose from his seat and slung his bag over his shoulder.

"We could ditch class," I suggested. "I know you want to be a perfect student, but if everything goes as planned-" I swallowed, "-we won't be going back to that school come Monday anyway."

"We can't skip. The principal will call Cameron. He'll know something is up."

I sighed. "I guess you're right."

I walked beside him with clenched fists. The tension in my body grew steadily. We didn't have any classes together that day and I dreaded not being at his side. "You'll be at your usual spot for lunch, right?" I verified nervously.

He blinked at me. "I'm always at my usual spot. That is why you call it my 'usual spot'."

"Right… just-… right." I nodded and watched him leave when our ways parted. He seemed so calm, whereas my body felt like every atom I was composed of was vibrating, threatening to shake apart the very fiber of myself.

When I reminded myself that he was able to stay so calm and collected was because what was about to happen was nothing new for him – not really –I nearly had a mental breakdown in the middle of my English Literature class. But the hurt I felt for him fueled my determination.

All day I was a bow-string pulled tight. I was wrecked with nerves. Heero's calm did not rub off on me during lunch. I kept wiggling my foot and picked at the frayed edge of a tear in my dark jeans. As the day crawled on, my body started to feel cold and shivers ripped through me, but my palms were clammy with sweat and I left wet handprints on everything I touched. For some reason, that made me feel self-conscious. During the last class of the day, all I could think about were those embarrassing handprints and hoping that no one would see them. I wrung my hands together in my lap and pulled the long sleeves of my black shirt down over my hands.

When the bell rang, I didn't even hear it and I nearly leapt out of my seat, startled, when some girl's book bag brushed by my shoulder as she headed for the door.

"Not in a hurry to start the weekend, Maxwell?" The teacher asked.

I opened my mouth and was very close to blurting out everything, to push the responsibility to someone else, to an adult, to bathe myself in child-like innocence and incompetence. But in the end I said nothing, because it wouldn't help. The teacher couldn't help us. No one could help us. No one had ever even tried to help Heero. They were all too blinded or too scared. I wasn't blind. I was scared, but I had nothing to lose, so it didn't matter. I forced on a smile and stuffed my book and notepad into by bag and rushed out of the classroom.

I jogged through the hallway, to meet up with Heero at the bike stand. I pushed the outside door open and nearly ran into another student. The sophomore looked at me uncomfortably and then hurried inside, ducking to pass underneath my arm that held the door open.

Heero was standing by his bike, backed-up against the wall. He was looking down at the ground, avoiding eye-contact with the three bullies that had him cornered.

Another student quickly got her bike and left the scene.

"Cody!" I called to get the attention of the biggest boy.

The bully turned his head and snarled at me: "My name is Brody!"

I knew that, but I liked fucking with him. Obviously my attitude wasn't exactly de-escalating the situation. "What's going on here, Brad?" I took a step towards them.

"His name is Brody," Corrected one of the others heatedly. "Are you deaf or just stupid?"

"Both," Supplied the third.

"Ouch." I made a face and continued sarcastically: "Hold on, let me get some ointment for that burn."

"You think this is funny?" Brody challenged. He lunged forward and twisted his big fist into the front of Heero's shirt and pulled him up on the tips of his toes, all the while staring at me, daring me to do something.

My fists clenched at my sides. The other two approached me, stepping around me to block off the exit.

"Aren't you scared?"

"Trust me, this is not the scary part of my weekend," I spat. Why couldn't they just leave us alone? Why today of all days? Why was everything so fucking unfair?

I felt an enraged thing inside me, thrashing to free itself from the restraints I had on it.

One of them, who had come to stand behind me, pushed me. I caught myself before I toppled forward.

I didn't want to fight with them. I shouldn't fight with them. I shouldn't waste my time or energy on them. But the control was starting to slip away from me. A thread had come undone and they were pulling at it, unraveling the ties that bound my anger and my desperation, both of which actually had very little to do with these dumb guys.

"I got a C for Spanish," Brody said, redirecting his attention to my brother. "I was just wondering if you would fuck him for me, to change his mind."

"Shut up and let go of him," I said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not talking to you, Other-Maxwell." He shook Heero until angry, cobalt blue eyes finally looked up at him. "You know mister Molina, right? He's still pretty young. Don't you think he's hot, little fag-boy?"

I took a step and two hands landed on my shoulders, stopping me.

"Surely you wouldn't mind fucking him to help me out, right?" He pressed on and then laughed mockingly.

Heero stared at him for the longest time, until suddenly he spoke: "Fuck. You." And then he spat in his face.

Brody raised his hand above his head to strike him in retaliation, to defend his honor, but before the blow could land I shook away from the guys holding onto me and I tackled Brody to the ground. The other two were quick to pull me off, but not before I got in a couple of punches. Heero didn't do anything, he stood there as the two of them hold onto me and Brody got up to punch me in the abdomen. Heero looked resigned, like he had done the math in his head and knew we couldn't win anyway, so we just had to suffer it. It was the same logic that had kept him from fighting back against Cameron all these years.

I groaned and doubled over at the third punch, by which time Brody really started to get into it. My body tensed up, in preparation for the fourth blow, but it didn't happen.

The door behind us swung open and a deep voice barked: "Break it up!"

A second later the bullies let go of me and I sank to my knees to catch my breath.

"What in the Hell is going on here?" An older man barked and I realized it was the principal. The head janitor was with him as back-up. One of the students that had snuck away must have alerted them to the confrontation by the bike stand.

"He started it!" Brody pointed his finger at me and then at the bruise forming on his face. "Look what he did!"

"The four of you, inside! My office, right now!" He commanded.

The janitor grabbed me by my forearm and hoisted me up from the ground. He dusted off my knees and asked me if I was okay, but kept a tight grip on my arm.

"Heero, you go home," The principal said. With Heero standing off the side, it must have looked like he wasn't part of it.

I was being dragged inside. I told Heero: "Wait for me here." I didn't want him to go home alone. We were going to do this together.

"No. No hanging around. I don't want any more trouble from you," Said the principal. "Go home, Heero."

"Heero-"

"Duo, it's fine. I'll see you at home. He's not home yet anyway."

I grumbled as I was taken inside. I hoped Heero would still wait for me, but Heero didn't share my concerns and probably saw no danger in heading home without me. What if Cameron had come home from work early to prepare for this special weekend? I didn't want him to be alone with that creep.

The janitor adjusted his grip from my arm to the collar of my shirt and shook me to stop my struggling. We were dumped into the seats in front of the principal's office and he gave us a routine lecture, pacing back and forth in front of us, with his hand folded behind his back. Occasionally he would pause and turn to face us and glare at us with his finger up in the air to assert his authority. We just sat there, slouched in our seats. I was anxious for him to hurry it along but I knew better than to try to rush him. He would only stall for the purpose of inconveniencing me.

When he was finally done, he made us shake hands and promise to be civil from then on. I had no problem selling this lie. I knew I wouldn't back at school Monday anyway, whichever way this weekend would turn out, I would not be back. Whether I would be halfway to Florida, or buried in the back yard, I wouldn't come back.

I thought we were done and free to go, but then the principal announced that he would call our parents and we would have to wait for them to come pick us up.

Having Cameron find out about our trouble with bullies at school had been something Heero and I were actively avoiding, but it didn't matter much if he found out now anyway. It wouldn't make the weekend any worse than it was already going to be. I wasn't scared of him getting angry with me for being in a fight anymore.

The other guys protested, but they were quickly silenced. Seated next to me, they murmured under their breath: "My dad is going to kill me" and "This is the worst." I had to refrain myself from lunging at them again and choking the life out of them. Their troubles were so minor and insignificant and in the meantime they were making Heero's shitty life that much worse and they enjoyed it too.

I clenched my fists in my lap. I was never going to let anybody treat Heero the way Cameron treated him and I was never going to let anybody treat him the way these assholes treated him either. My resolve was absolute. If Heero would let me stay by his side, I was going to fiercely protect him from everyone and everything.

One by one the guys were picked up by their parents and I waited. When I was the last to remain, the principal emerged from his office and announced: "I called your father, but he can't come to get you. So you are free to go home by yourself. But I told him everything about the trouble you've been getting into, so you can expect an earful."

"Sure." I was relieved, more than anything. If he couldn't come pick me up meant he was still at work, so Heero was fine. For the time being.

I checked the bike stands and looked around by the main entrance of the school grounds and just as I had predicted, Heero hadn't stuck around and had gone home alone against my advice.

I walked home with my hands tucked into the pockets of my jeans. After an unusual calm in my mind – the calm before the storm – the nerves crept in again.

Would it be tonight? Would he wait until tomorrow?

Maybe nothing would happen and he was still just fucking with our minds?

I snorted at my naiveté.

I rounded the corner, into our street and stopped dead in my tracks. Cameron's dark sedan was in the driveway, next to Tabytha's S.U.V. He was home. Why? And what was keeping him so busy that he couldn't come pick me up, if he wasn't at work?

For a moment I couldn't move. The instinct of self-preservation urged me to turn around and run away, run as far as my lead feet could take me and leave the dead weight of my heavy heart behind because that would only slow me down.

My feet moved. I started running. I sprinted towards the red front door of the house, struggling to fish the keys out of my pocket along the way. My trembling hand had a hard time inserting the key into the lock. I was panting, but not from the short run. With every breath my abdomen ached from the short beating I had suffered at the hands of Brody, but the dull pain was easy to ignore.

The door opened and I stumbled inside. "Hello?" I cringed at how afraid I sounded. There was no response and my heart climbed up into my throat, constricting everything. They are in Heero's room, I thought. It's happening. This is it. Glimmering around the looming shape of my fear and anxiety, was a sense of victory, like the silver lining along a dark cloud. Whatever was happening, and whatever was going to happen, the camera was recording everything. But I hated that I had to stop and think if I should go up there or just 'let it play out'. I wanted to protect him, but at the same time the whole purpose was to gather evidence, I shouldn't interrupt that.

I started to sneak towards the kitchen. I wanted to go into the garage and have a listen, to try and determine what was going on. I wasn't even three steps away from the front door when I heard his voice.

"Duo."

My heart dropped back down, straight into my stomach, like a brick. I looked up.

Standing at the top of the staircase, looking down at me with a smug smirk, was Cameron, with his arms folded in front of his chest. He was wearing a deconstructed version of his suit; pressed slacks and button-up shirt, but rolled-up sleeves and loose tie snaked around his neck.

"Close the door, Duo."

I did as instructed. I pushed the door shut. I wasn't going to run. "Where's Heero?" There was no point to playing pretend, so my tone was dark and demanding.

"Come up here."

"Where is my brother?"

Cameron shook his head at me. "He is not your brother. You are not brothers. You are not allies. I'll make sure you both understand that from now on."

"Where is he?" The words came out trembling that time and he laughed. My jaw clenched.

"He's right here." He motioned at the open door of the master bedroom to his left.

Shit. I chewed on the inside of my cheek.

"Come upstairs, Duo. Right now."

My mind raced. This wasn't part of the plan. Suddenly I felt really stupid for assuming that it would happen in Heero's bedroom. With Tabytha gone, the entire house was at Cameron's disposal, we should have known that it wouldn't necessarily be in Heero's bedroom! I couldn't let it happen. I couldn't let him make us do it, not if it didn't leave us with any evidence after the fact. Trying my best to go back to feigning innocence, I patted my school bag and said: "Sure thing. Give me a second, I'm just going to put away my bag." I had every intention of getting the biggest knife from the kitchen.

Cameron adjusted his stance. He reached one hand behind his back and when he brought it to the front again he was holding the hand gun that I had seen before. "No, Duo. Put your bag on the floor and get up here."

My breath hitched in my throat. With shaky hands I slipped the strap of my bag off my shoulder and the hefty thing fell to the hardwood floor with a thud. "O-okay." While keeping my gaze trained on him, I started climbing the steps of the stairs.

Cameron stepped aside, giving me a wide berth so I couldn't try anything. He gestured for me to head into his bedroom.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, my throat swelled and started to burn. It was difficult to swallow and difficult to breathe. I was hit with an unbearable myriad of emotion when I spotted Heero sitting on the bed. He was fully dressed and he seemed fine, but finally the full weight of what was going to happen hit me.

I noticed Heero was wearing the clothes we had bought him during that weekend: the tight jeans and the fitted white shirt.

Cameron, as if able to read my mind, supplied: "I asked him to change. He looks so good in those clothes and obviously you think so too, or you wouldn't have picked them out for him. Doesn't he look good?"

I kept my back turned towards Cameron as I stood in the center of the room feeling like a useless piece of shit.

"Doesn't he look good?" Cameron pressed, his voice dropping and becoming more menacing. When he shut the door all air got sucked out of the room and I became lightheaded. At my lack of response, he repeated the inquiry, even more threatening.

"Yes," I croaked.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, he looks good."

Cameron hummed in agreement and pulled one of the lounge seats in the corner towards the door, dragging it across the carpet. He sat down to make himself more comfortable while conveniently blocking our only escape route. "Tell us what you like about the outfit."

I grimaced. All the while Heero was staring at me, with that dead-calm expression. I couldn't decide if I was comforted or frightened by how little all this affected him. I let out a single sob and couldn't maintain eye-contact with him anymore.

My father let out a breathy chuckle at my despair and humiliation. "The clothes make his body look good, don't they?" He answered for me. "The white shirt contrasts nicely with his golden skin. And the jeans are so tight. He still has the waist of a twelve-year-old boy."

I shuddered.

"Get onto the bed, Duo."

"I don't want to."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!" I screeched. I heard movement behind me but before I could react a big hand wrapped around the back of my neck and I was thrown forward, towards the bed.

"Get in." His voice remained even. He seated himself again.

I climbed onto the mattress, at the foot of the bed, about as far removed from Heero as the expanse of the bed allowed.

Heero, sitting on the right side with his back against the headboard, pulled his knees up to his chest, the first and only sign that he might be as uncomfortable and afraid as I was.

"Sit next to him."

I did as I was told because I had no idea how to resist without endangering both our lives. Sitting next to Heero put me in a position that forced me to face Cameron, but I purposefully avoided looking at him. I didn't look at Heero either, I stared at the window, at the tree outside and the blue sky beyond. Everything felt so far away; freedom, happiness, tranquility, love, dignity, safety, they were all unreachable. I finally got a real glimpse at what Heero had been feeling since he was just a little boy and sinking into a place of helplessness and hopelessness, I finally truly understood why Heero had surrendered to it, because the window to the outside world looked like a frame picture on a solid, concrete wall and fighting back seemed dangerously futile.

"I don't like the way you've been trying to undermine me," Cameron announced. "You want Heero to think he can do better that this? That things will be different for him as long as he's with you?"

I bit my lip.

"And you want to think you are not like me?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and tears rolled down my cheeks.

"It is time to bring an end to that illusion. This is where you both belong and this is who you really. Things will get much easier for you once you accept that. You'll have fun in the process, I'm sure." From the sound of his voice I could tell he was smirking.

I shook my head uselessly.

"Heero is going to show you a good time."

On cue Heero scooted closer to me. Our shoulders and hips pressed together. Heero wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Cameron. He hesitated, but then he asked: "Can we have something?"

I realized he was asking for drugs to dull the experience.

"No. I want you both to really feel it."

The Japanese boy nodded in acceptance and then placed his hand on my thigh.

I couldn't stop myself. I started to cry. My torso shook with sobs.

Cameron laughed.

"It won't hurt," Heero assured me.

"Yes, it will." He didn't know what I meant. I wrapped my arms around myself and dropped my head.

"Don't do this, Duo. It will be bad if we don't cooperate. Please." He reached up his hand and wiped away my tears. He wasn't exactly sympathetic, he only bothered to comfort me for practical reasons. He needed me to play along, to do as we were commanded. He didn't want to be subjected to Cameron's punishment.

"I can't do this," I mewled pathetically.

"I can. I know what to do."

My heart fell and shattered into a million, sharp, jagged pieces; each one of them pricked into my insides like a needle. "It shouldn't be like that," I whispered.

Both our gazes darted to Cameron, seated by the door, when he started to clap. "Isn't this a beautiful scene?" He mocked. "I'm so touched." His act changed on a dime. His eyes became black pools underneath hooded eyebrows and his tone lowered when he ordered: "Now turn this romance into a porno before I lose my patience."

I froze when Heero's hand moved up and covered the front of my jeans. His fingers started to massage the bulge. His expression was one of focus, like he was trying to do well on a test, remembering his studies. My entire body stiffened except for that part of me. "Don't, please don't," I pleaded Heero, as if he was in control, as if he had any more say in the matter than I did.

"It's okay. Let's just get it over with." He applied more pressure and tried different techniques, but nothing was happening. Worry an irritation appeared on his features in the form of pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows.

"You can do better than that, Heero," Cameron purred.

To my shock Heero maneuvered himself to straddle my lap. He had never been so close and it was startling to be surround by his warmth and his smell and he was all I could see. One arm wrapped around my neck. His forehead pressed against mine. The other hand was still working the bulge between my legs.

I didn't think anything would happen. I hoped nothing would happen. But suddenly it did. My own body betrayed me and reacted to the stimulation. My penis started to firm up and I whimpered in dismay and embarrassment.

"It's okay. It's good," Heero said.

Cameron caught on what was happening and let out a satisfied chuckle. "Feels good, doesn't it, Duo? He's good at that, isn't he?"

"Please stop…"

He didn't. Instead, he whispered in response: "I'm sorry." Then he swiftly unbuttoned the front of my jeans and worked his hand inside, into the underwear as well and he pulled the swollen arousal out of the confinement of the clothing.

My gaze shot down to my lap, to his golden hand pumping up and down my reddened member. I quickly looked away again, to the window, to the outside world that looked increasingly abstract and unrealistic, as if it had never been there and the artist had painted a poor reconstruction of what it might have looked like, without truly understanding the openness and freedom of it.

"Kiss him, Heero?"

"On the mouth?" He asked.

"Yes."

Heero tilted his head to align our faces and pressed his lips against my. I kept my mouth firmly shut. I closed my eyes as well.

"Make him feel good, Heero. Show him everything I taught you."

But Heero couldn't do much with my lips so tight and shut and I wasn't going to let him. He moved his lips to kiss my face and neck routinely.

Cameron's presence in the room was a nauseating thing, like an acrid stench that you couldn't help but breathe in and then taste in your mouth as well.

Heero sat back. His hand stilled. "Uhm…"

I opened my eyes and saw him looking completely lost.

"What's the problem?" Cameron asked impatiently.

"He's gone soft."

I checked myself and was relieved to see it was the truth. My flaccid manhood was in his hand. He gave it a few fruitless tugs but didn't make an earnest effort. I wanted to weep when I saw the insecure expression on his face. "It's not you," I assured him in a low voice.

"Duo! Don't make the boy feel bad!" Cameron chastised. "He has worked so hard to get as good as he is and he's still not good enough for you?" He cackled. "If you can't get it up, maybe we should use the opportunity to teach Heero a new skill… Maybe he should fuck you."

Heero and I both blanched.

"I'm sure that now that Heero is older I can find some clients who would like that too."

Heero climbed off me. "I don't want to do that." His statement was very resolute. He didn't want to put me through what he had been through, not understanding that it would be just as bad for me to rape him as it would be for him to rape me.

With Cameron glaring at Heero, I used the opportunity to tuck myself back into my underwear and button-up my jeans.

"I don't want to hurt him," My brother added.

His protest caused Cameron to rise from his seat. "You will do as I tell you. You both will. You boys need to learn that, once and for all." He took a threatening step towards us. "One of you better fuck the other, right now. We don't have all weekend. I have other plans for tomorrow. Some friends are coming over that I'd like to introduce you to."

My stomach turned.

Heero looked at me desperately. "Just do it, Duo. Just fuck me, it will be fine. I can handle it."

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "You still don't understand? Just like you don't want to hurt me, I don't want to hurt you!"

"I can handle it! I'm used to it!" The pitch of his tone changed, he was getting upset. His eyes became watery and glassy and reflected in them was a deep-rooted fear.

"I won't do it!" I yelled at him.

Cameron rushed forward and grabbed me by the base of my braid. I yelped and kicked my feet and held onto his forearm to take some of my weight off my hair as he dragged me off the bed and across the floor. "If you won't fuck him, I will." He let go of me and before I could scramble to my feet he kicked me in the stomach, further upsetting my already abused torso, but his boot landed much harder than Brody's punches.

I groaned and curled in on myself.

He moved around me and kicked me against my back and my legs and stomped on my side and my hip.

When he stopped, I couldn't really breathe. I sucked in a wheezing breath but it only hurt my body more, like another kick in the ribs.

"Stop it!" Heero screamed and I heard something that sounded like a smack.

"Get back on the bed!" Cameron barked.

"You said I was too old for you!"

"I need to teach you a lesson. You still belong to me."

I rolled over so I could see what was happening. My entire body protested. I saw Cameron push his adoptive son onto the bed and he produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. Heero struggled until Cameron raised his hand in the air as another threat and the action generated a conditioned response. Heero went still and allowed his right wrist to the cuffed to the headboard.

Alarms were going off in my head. Move! Move! Move! I got up on my hands and knees, took as deep of a breath as I could manage and managed to straighten up. Cameron was already stalking towards me, the gun in his right hand, down at his side. I hurried for the door, ripped it open and stepped into the hallway. I wasn't going to run, but I needed to weapon to fight him with, so I reverted to my earlier plan: get a big knife from the kitchen. However, I was barely outside the master bedroom when his foot connected with the back of my leg and the impact threw off my balance and I tumbled to the floor again. I tried to crawl away on my hands and knees, not able to get up, but he walked around me and kicked me against my head, flooring me again.

"Stop it! Don't hurt him!" Heero screamed and he fought to free himself from his restraint without success. "We'll do whatever you want! We're sorry!"

Cameron ignored his pleas and addressed me: "You're not going anywhere. You are going to watch me fuck him. Maybe that will get you hard."

I rolled onto my back, clutching my nose. Blood gushed out of the nostrils and I could taste it in my mouth. I nearly choked on the amount of it.

My father reached down and hooked his hands under my arms and raised me up to take me back to the bedroom.

Heero stood next to the bed, pulling at the cuffs that bound him to the woodwork of the headboard, regarding me with wide, frightened eyes.

Seeing him like that re-sparked my will to fight. I wasn't going to Cameron touch him. Before he could push me back into the room, I shook free from his grip, spun around, and flung my fist towards him. The knuckles impacted with his face with an audible crack, but I hurt my hand more than his jaw, it appeared.

He stumbled back a little, but was unimpressed by my blow.

I tried hitting him again, but his left hand caught my fist and the fingers of his right hand enclosed around my neck and he slammed me back against the wall, next to the bedroom door.

The stairs were right behind him, only three feet away. While my hands struggled to loosen the vice he had on my throat, I kneed him in his abdomen and tried to get him off balance.

He let out a deep oomph and took a step back to get out of the reach of my knees.

I kicked him against his shins, wanting to inch him closer and closer to the top of the stairs, but when he cast a look over his shoulder he realized what I was trying to do. He yanked me away from the wall. I couldn't breath and I didn't have much strength left to resist him. He turned us around, so it was me standing at the very edge of the top step. I held onto his wrist with both hands. I couldn't think anymore. Instinct kicked in and all I could do was claw at his arm, even though it wasn't helping me.

"Fine, you don't have to watch," He hissed. He coiled his free hand back, curled around the handgun, that he must have had tucked in the back of his pants. He simultaneously cracked my cheekbone with the butt of the gun while his right hand released the grip he had on me.

The punch was so powerful I forgot to breath when I finally could. I started falling backwards and tried to squeeze my fingers around his wrist to pull him down with me, but I was powerless. My nails scratched along his skin as I lost my grip. The start of the fall happened in slow-motion. I watched his smirking face disappear from my line of sight. The ceiling was all I could see. Then I felt the first impact: the sharp edges of the hardwood steps, three along my back, and I hit another with the back of my head. With the momentum my legs flipped over my torso and I tumbled further down, twisting to the side. As I rolled down the entire flight of stairs, I crushed my right shoulder, contorted my legs and hit my head a second time. My body was forced into another flip at the bottom of the staircase and I landed on the foyer floor face-first. Coming to a sudden stop was another painful shock in and of itself. My organs felt displaced within my torso. Where-ever the lungs were, they sucked in a deep breath and it was the worst pain yet. My brain was scrambled. My vision was unfocused and dimmed. Heero's screams were drowned out by an annoying, high-pitched tone that rang in my ears.

Then everything went quiet.

The pain went away.

And everything went dark.

But then someone was crying. I listened to the whimpers and the wails. They confused me. Was I crying? No. Mom?

I opened my eyes and I saw… colors.

I blinked. Shapes with blurred lines appeared.

Another blink. A side table. A vase. A mirror on the wall. Coats. But everything was inverted.

I was on the floor. Why was I on the floor?

Someone groaned. In pain. No. Not in pain. Beastly, heated groans. Someone else was still crying.

I wanted to close my eyes and sleep, but I shouldn't sleep on the floor. My mother would think I was crazy. I moved my arms to push myself up from the floor but an intense, sharp pain shot through my body and the pain made me remember.

Heero!

A panic washed over me. I had no idea how long I was out cold for. I could hear them upstairs. It didn't matter if it had been two minutes or two hours, it was happening now and I had to get up! However, I couldn't move my right arm, much less use it to push myself up from the floor, the shoulder hurt too much and my body simply refused. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the pain, and rolled onto my back, biting back my own cries. Supporting myself with my left hand, I was able to sit up. I clambered upright, holding onto the bannister. The stairs loomed over me, they seemed insurmountable. Everything hurt. My shoulder and my head were the worst, but my hips, back and legs also ached. Still, I had to get up there.

I put my foot up on the first step and hoisted myself up by the bannister. The pain rendered my body uncoordinated, but I had to push through it. The further upstairs I got, the more it hurt, but the easier it became for me to control my body. The sounds coming from the bedroom fueled my adrenaline and I was able to work through the pain.

The door was closed and I tried to doorknob, only to find it was locked. I beat my fist against the door, startling them both. "You motherfucker! I'm going to kill you!" I screamed.

"Duo!" Heero called but then yelped and went quiet.

"Give me a minute," Cameron responded through gritted teeth and he continued with his sickening grunts. The bed moved; it creaked and the headboard banged against the wall.

"You piece of shit!" I hit the door again. "You piece of shit!" Tears rushed down my face. I was as frustrated as I was upset. I tried to kick to door in, but to no avail. I had to get that door open. "I'm coming back for you, Heero!" I called. "I'm not leaving you!" Ignoring the pain in my limbs and my torso I went back downstairs, as swift as I could manage. My left hand sought purchase on the walls as I moved through the house to the door leading into the garage. I had to get a hammer, an axe, a crowbar, anything!

I stumbled into the garage, barely able to catch myself against Cameron's fucking motorcycle. My gaze scoured the wall. I only spotted regular, small hammers, nothing appropriate for busting through a solid door. No axe either. But then I noticed the crowbar hanging off the edge of Heero's workbench. I snatched the black piece of steel and raced through the house. The pain had been dulled by the adrenaline and although I could barely move my right arm due to my shoulder, which I figured might have been dislocated, I had to face Cameron. I had no idea how I was going to fight him in my state, especially considering he still had the gun, but I wasn't thinking that far ahead. I had to get that door open first.

I stood at the bottom of the staircase, a little shell-shocked when the bedroom door opened and Cameron stepped out into the hallway, tucking his shirt into his pants and slipping the handcuffs into the front pocket. I held up the crowbar defensively.

He knew I was standing there, but he casually straightened his clothes before acknowledging me. "You're tougher than I thought." He reached back and fished the handgun out of the back of his belt. He pointed it straight at me for the first time.

I tried to swallow but my mouth had gone so dry I ended up coughing. I tightened my grip on the crowbar, as if I stood any chance.

My father slowly came down the stairs, keeping the gun trained on me.

Upstairs it was completely quiet. Why was it quiet? Why didn't he need the handcuffs for Heero anymore?

"What have you done to him?" I croaked. I took a step back as he kept nearing me.

"You heard what I did to him."

"Did you kill him? After?"

He let out a dry laugh. "I'm not going to kill Heero. He's too valuable."

"Isn't he too old for you?"

He shrugged. "I had fun anyway. And clients will always be lining up for an exotic beauty like him. Even when he is no longer a boy. And they will express their gratitude by giving me access to their little boys next door… their young nephews… their own sons."

"You're a monster."

"I'm your father." He smirked. "Drop the crowbar."

I tightened my sweat-slicked hands around it.

"Drop it."

Not knowing how to fight an armed man with just a crowbar and a broken body, I lowered the tool to the floor and kicked it away when he told me to do so.

He laughed. "Hmm. I spoke too soon. You are not tough after all. You're weak. Soft. Like Heero." He closed the distance between us and pressed the muzzle of the gun against my forehead. "If only your damn mother wouldn't have stolen you away from me."

"My mother should have stabbed out your eyeballs while you slept," I hissed.

"But she didn't. And neither did Tabytha. And neither did Heero. Because I am in control. You are all powerless against me."

"You're full of shit!" I spat.

Before I could react, he hit me again, with the gun and the dizzying blow caused me to fall. Sprawled on the floor, I looked up at him standing over me. He held the gun over his head. He wasn't going to shoot, he enjoyed beating me.

"Just fucking kill me if that's what you want to do!"

"I'm not sure yet if I want to kill you," He said coldly. He bent over, twisted his hand into the front of my shirt and half pulled me up. "Like I said: I have some friends coming over tomorrow."

"They won't get to lay on hand on me. And not on Heero either." I looked upstairs and called: "Heero! Heero!" Maybe if we could outnumber him…

He struck me again, letting go of my shirt so I would fall again. "Heero won't help you. He won't fight me. He knows better."

I scrambled to crawl away from him, to create some distance between us. I flailed my legs, kicking him against his shins and ankles, then tried to pull away from him. I inched closer to the kitchen. I managed to get away from him while he laughed at me and got up on my feet. When he realized I was heading for the kitchen to get a knife he was quick to chase me. He kicked against the back of my leg. I stopped myself from falling by grabbing onto the doorpost and then I stumbled further into the kitchen. He walked around me, around the kitchen island and reached the block of knives on the kitchen counter before I did. Confident in his own physical prowess he tucked the gun into his belt, on the small of his back and pulled the large chef knife from the block. His eyes gleamed. "This should be fun." He widened his stance and challenged me to lunge at him.

I looked around myself. The only things within reach were the kitchen towels, spoons, whisks and baking pans. I ripped one of the towels off the hook and wrapped it around my hand. I charged towards him and when he stuck out the knife I grabbed hold of the blade with the hand that was protected by the towel wrapped around it. The several layers of fabric prevented the sharp knife from cutting into my palm, for now. I squeezed tight so he couldn't pull it back.

Cameron growl, finally starting to lose his cool. He tackled me to the floor and pinned me down; sitting on my torso and pressing both of my wrists to the floor with his knees. He gave up on trying to free the knife from my grip and instead enclosed both hands around my throat and proceeded to choke me.

My face became red and hot. My eyes started to hurt as they became bloodshot. I wiggled my body in an attempt to get his weight off me but I was too immobilized and too hurt to exert any real strength.

"Heero will just have to work twice as hard to entertain my friends tomorrow," Cameron hissed. He pulled me up a little by my neck and then slammed the back of my head down on the floor for good measure.

I started to convulse. My legs thrashed. I felt like my face was burning and my eyes would explode from the pressure. Tears rushed down my temples as I had to admit to my failure. I could only hope that Ruby would soon realize our plan had failed and that she would somehow find Heero and get him out of this place. Or maybe, once the school would clear out my locker, the right person would find the notebook in which I had detailed the abuse Heero had suffered at the hands of this monster and finally do something about it.

Suddenly a streak of black slashed through my dimmed vision and I heard something cut through the air with a swoosh. Then a crack resounded and the fingers constricting my throat went lax.

Cameron fell to the right of me, his eyes rolling back into the sockets and Heero was revealed standing over us, holding the crowbar, dressed in nothing but his button-up shirt and briefs.

I coughed and dry-heaved while clutching at my throat. The air I sucked in desperately burned my throat and my ribs protested against the sharp heaving of my chest but I needed to breathe. Breathe!

Heero froze for a moment but then his face contorted and he swung the crowbar again, hitting the unconscious man against his broad back. And then again, against the back of his thigh. And again, on his shoulder.

"Hee-o," I could hardly speak. "Hee-o… sto-… Stop. Heero." In spite of the pain I got up on my feet and gently touched his upper arm to make him stop swinging the steel tool. "It's okay," I said in a whisper, because it was all I could manage. "It's okay. You're safe. We're safe."

He dropped the crowbar to the floor.

Without thinking I pulled him into a hug.

Heero pressed his nose against my shoulder and I ignored the pain. His entire body was trembling.

"It's okay. Shhh…" I petted his unruly hair and pressed a kiss against his forehead. I bit my lip. "Did he use a condom?" I resented that I had to ask him, but it was important.

"No…" Heero whimpered.

I nodded and held him tighter to me. We may not have been able to get the video evidence as intended, but at least we did have some kind of evidence; inside Heero's abused body.

There wasn't any time to spare though. We couldn't risk sticking around too long, in case one of the neighbors had overheard the ruckus and had called the police – Cameron's buddies – and I had to get Heero to a hospital. We had to get out of there, only then would we be truly safe. I pulled back and made him look me in the eyes. "Wait here, okay? I'm going to get our things and we are going to get the fuck out of here, okay?"

His blue eyes were dull and glazed over. "Is he dead?" Was all he thought to ask.

I looked at Cameron's body on the floor. I wasn't sure if Heero wanted him to be or not, I couldn't tell from his inflection. I told Heero to stay put and I walked over and crouched down by his big body. I leaned in close and heard his shallow breaths. "He's alive," I declared. The thought crossed my mind that we should kill him, but I didn't want to do anything that could cause more harm than good. Besides, he was going to prison and there was one thing that even thieves, murderers and drug dealers were disgusted by: child molesters. Cameron would wish he was dead and one of his fellow inmates could very well oblige him.

I pulled the gun free from his belt and put it on the kitchen counter. I grabbed both his limp hands and with a grunt I dragged him over the far wall, where steel pipes fed the radiator. Using the very handcuffs he had used on Heero I cuffed him to one of the steel pipes, with his hands behind his back.

My brother had lowered himself down onto the floor. He sat in the corner of the kitchen cabinets, hugging his legs to his chest. His eyes were blank and stared at nothing.

"Hey… Are you okay? Heero?" I kneeled in front of him and tried to get him to look at me but he was completely spaced out. I realized he was in shock. "It's okay. I'll be right back. It's okay."

I left to get our things from Heero's room: clean clothes and my mother's photobook. And I plucked the keys of Tabytha's SUV from the bowl on the end table in the hallway and went ahead and put our stuff in the car. Walking past Cameron I stopped and stared down at him. He looked much smaller, sitting there, slumped over, head drooping, hair falling around his face.

He seemed powerless. It seemed like he would never be able to hurt us again. But I knew that was not the truth. He would still be as big, tall and looming in our heads as ever and it would take a long time for that memory of him to become small and powerless as well.

I shook my head. I shouldn't worry about that until later.

Heero was still sitting where I left him. He was completely paralyzed.

With a grunt I lowered myself onto my knees by his side. "Heero?" I tugged at his arm but couldn't get him to move. I panicked a little. "Heero. Come on. Get up. We have to go." I pulled harder but he just tensed up more. "You fought back," I commended him. "Now you have to keep fighting."

There was no response. His widened eyes stared at nothing.

I sighed. "Heero, get up. I can't carry you like this." I pointedly looked down at my own, broken body. Then I clenched my jaw and announced resolutely: "You know what? Fuck it. Yes I can." I maneuvered his arm around my neck, wrapped one of my arms around his torso and hooked the other under his knees. The pain in my right shoulder was blinding and my first attempt to get him up from the floor failed. I cursed and tried again and managed to straighten up with a growl. I leaned back a little to adjust my center of gravity and maintain my balance, ignoring the painful protest of my muscles. I carried him to the car and settled him in the passenger seat and even fastened his seatbelt for him.

I got into the driver's seat and had trouble shifting the car into reverse with my aching right arm, but I pushed through the pain. I tore the car out of the driveway, shifted into forward, and sped off. My left hand curled tightly around the steering wheel. It was dark outside and I struggled to focus on the road. All the streetlights and headlights flashing by distracted me, every flicker of light startled me. I was on edge.

It wasn't until we reached the highway that I could calm down a little, as more and more distance was put between us and that house.

Because Heero was only wearing a shirt and underwear, I turned up the heat and started playing with the navigation until I figured out how to get it to give me directions to a hospital a few towns over, across the state-line. I wanted to make sure that the cops that would be called to the hospital to come meet us were no associates of our father.

It was a three-hour-drive. Heero was still shell-shocked. I didn't say much, only occasionally assured him that we were fine and that I would keep him safe. He didn't respond to anything.

We reached the hospital and I parked the car half on the curb by the entry to the emergency room. I walked around the vehicle and didn't even bother to ask him if he could walk. I unfastened his seatbelt and lifted him out of the car. I gritted my teeth as I fought against the pain in my body and carried him through the automated doors, into a crowded waiting room. A child was crying. Beyond a set of doors doctors and nurses were running around, helping patients.

I stood at the center of the space, about the break down, but I composed myself with a deep breath, even though that hurt.

A nurse and a doctor approached us. They looked more concerned about my well-being, with my visual bruises, blood-shot eyes and red marks on my throat, than Heero's.

"What happened?" The doctor asked. Before I could even respond he produced a penlight from his pocket and flashed it in front of Heero's eyes, alerted to the state the teenage boy was in.

It just blurted out of me, in front of all those people: "Our father raped him." As soon as I said it, I started to weep.

They wanted to take Heero from me, but I wouldn't let them, so we were guided through the double doors, down a long hallway, to a private room in the back where they asked me to place him on the awaiting gurney. Even though he was starting to get heavy in my arm and my body ached, I didn't want to let go of him. I was so afraid of making a mistake, or trusting the wrong people. But when I studied the faces of the doctor and the nurse, I knew it would be alright and I placed Heero on the gurney.

"You are very badly beat-up," The doctor noted. "We should take care of you injuries."

"Later," I said.

He nodded in understanding. "Nurse Samara will stay with you. I'm going to get doctor Duygu and she will take good care of you."

This doctor Duygu was probably a specialist. She was quick to arrive and looked Heero over for visible injuries. Aside from a bruise on his face, he appeared fine. Physically, at least. She took us to another room, one floor up. The room had sand-colored walls, a dark, soft couch, potted plants, a bed and a privacy partition. The doctor spoke to Heero in a comforting, sympathetic tone, but he was not responding to her either. Nurse Samara brought in a tray of equipment and a box marked "SOEC"; a rape-kit.

They left us alone for a little while, to give Heero time to come out of his state. She urged me to have my injuries looked after but I refused.

I sat by the bed. In the silence I heard the clock tick. It was oddly hypnotizing. I heard voiced just outside the door and the static crackle of a radio. The police were here.

A small sound coming from the bed drew my attention. I gazed upon Heero, lying curled on the bed, and it took a while for his soft sobs and the tears on his face to register.

"Heero…" I leaned in close and clutched both his hands. I felt them tremble. I wanted to tell him every would was okay and that he was fine, but that wasn't the case. Not yet. Instead I said, my voice cracking: "I'm sorry."

His sobs grew louder. His eyes reflected an unbearable suffering.

We weren't free quite yet, it wasn't that simple, I realized that now. It wasn't over, the real pain had only just begun. I could tell part of him regretted taking this step, exposing himself to these feelings. He had left his armor at home and he was assaulted by the full realization of what had been done to him and it was painful to watch that dawn on him, to see him feel it – really feel it – for the first time. I could offer him nothing to ease his pain. All I could do was hold his hands, rest my head on the pillow, next to his and cry with him.

We both spent out tears and exhausted ourselves with out sobs.

There was a polite knock and the doctor and the nurse didn't come inside until they were invited in.

"Heero," Doctor Duygu started softly. "I want to examine you and collect evidence. But we won't do anything without your permission. Nobody will touch you without your permission, or do anything that you are uncomfortable with. Do you understand me?" He wouldn't look at her. She exchanged a glance with me and then resumed: "It's okay if you need more time. Or if you don't want to do this at all. You are in control."

Woth his eyes fixed on mine, he said with hoarse voice: "We didn't kill him."

I shook my head. "No. But he will go to prison. He will be punished."

"Only if I let them examine me."

My gaze flitted to the doctor and then back to him. "Maybe. I don't know. It would help, but you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

The doctor used the moment of silence that fell between us to inform us of the procedure and that he could stop of skip a step whenever he felt uncomfortable. She explained that he could undress himself behind the partition so his clothes could be collected as evidence, she would examine him from head-to-toe, including an internal exam of the rectum, take swabs of skin surfaces, the rectal area and the mouth, get scraping from underneath his fingernails and collect hairs and other physical evidence if those were to be found. She chose her words very carefully to make sure he wouldn't be pressured.

In the end, Heero nodded his consent.

"You tell us whenever you want the examination to stop and then we will stop," She reminded him. Then she nodded at me and asked him: "Can he stay or do you want him to leave the room?"

I took a step back, prepared to be asked to leave, but Heero's hand tightened around mine and he wouldn't let me go.

"I want him to stay," He said. "He's my brother."


End file.
